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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747407">Embracing My Pain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Risen_Phoenix/pseuds/The_Risen_Phoenix'>The_Risen_Phoenix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Branding, Character Death, Cheating, Chronic Pain, Dark Nero - Freeform, Drowning, Hanahaki Disease, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury, Knights - Freeform, Lots and lots of character death, M/M, No Beta, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Prostitution, Rituals, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Vampires, Vergil's A+ Parenting, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:42:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Risen_Phoenix/pseuds/The_Risen_Phoenix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fics for Whumptober 2020</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nero/V (Devil May Cry)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Let's Hang Out Sometime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | *Hanging*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>V's hands were bound behind his back, the rough rope biting into the soft flesh of his wrists as he was jerked forwards and through the jeering crowd. No matter what they shouted at him, no matter what they threw at him, V made sure to keep his head held high, eyes scanning the section where the nobles sat, seeking out one person in particular.</p><p>Finally managing to locate the one he searched for, V's posture relaxed, his steady green eyes meeting bloodshot blue; holding that contact until it was forcefully broken. V stumbled as he was slammed in the face with a lance, blood beginning to drip into his eye from the cut it had left upon his brow, a stifled moan of pain escaping him.</p><p>Angry with himself for giving his tormentors the satisfaction of hearing his pain, V clamped his mouth closed, choking down the sounds that threatened to escape. Vaguely, V thought that he could hear yelling from somewhere else, the sounds of a body crashing into the ground reverberating through the suddenly deathly quiet market place. Heavy breaths broke the silence, and V was sure that it wasn't him that panted so desperately for air, trailing his eyes back towards that most beloved man; the one who was struggling in the hold of two guards, face covered in tears and bruises, mouth open to scream.</p><p>“V!” Nero's cry broke the silence that had fallen, the townspeople murmuring amongst themselves how the whore had obviously tainted the honourable Duke's son. Although it was frowned upon in the public eye, if you were that way inclined, you were to keep your proclivities behind closed doors – not have your entire affair plastered across the front page of the local press, with the announcement of your intended vows.</p><p>They didn't know of the years Nero and V had spent together, growing up and learning about the world and themselves. They hadn't been there when they had shyly pressed chaste kisses to one another's lips, cheeks reddening in embarrassment and pleasure. No one else had been there for the other in their times of need – Nero's father too busy or just plain uninterested (he'd never been able to tell which), and V's family having long moved on from the town, leaving little V behind to survive on his own.</p><p>They didn't know just how much Nero loved V and adored him; how much V loved and lived only for Nero.</p><p>All they saw was a noble son who was willing to throw everything away – his rank, his birthright, his future – on nothing more than a whore, and a male one at that. And although his father did not care to know about Nero's decisions, he could not abide the shame his actions had brought down upon their family name. So he had stormed the brothel when Nero had left to visit V, had brought soldiers with him to arrest the whore who had surely used narcotics to entrap his son, and had had him tried as a criminal. He left nothing to chance, bribing the judge and jury – not that he had needed to – and had pushed for the death penalty to been given as punishment.</p><p>Now he sat upon his velveteen chair, and watched with cold eyes as V was pulled up the stairs to the gallows; a single knotted rope loop waiting to fall around his slender throat. A hessian bag was brought out, though to Vergil's surprise the boy refused it, his head turned to stare into his own blank eyes; flinty jade orbs burning a path right through him, until he felt as though his soul was being set alight.</p><p>Their stare broke as the rope was dropped around V's neck, Nero still struggling beside him to escape and rescue his lover. It took Vergil less than a moment to knock his legs from under him, gripping his hair in a furious hold to make sure he watched every moment of V's death. Oh how Vergil hoped that V's neck didn't snap immediately, hoping that he would writhe and struggle to draw air as he was slowly suffocated, the mercy of an instant death denied him.</p><p>The noose was tightened, a hush falling over the eager crowd, and V stared at them all with fierce eyes. How disgusting, he thought to himself, that they took pleasure in the public murder of another person. That they brought their children to such events, and set up stalls for food and wine, and treated it like a festival.</p><p>He would see them all burn in hell for this, but what he really wanted was to remain by Nero's side. Nero who would now be trapped by his father with no chance for escape, with his best friend and first love taken away from him cruelly, and no doubt trapped in a marriage of convenience with another noble's daughter; not a single chance to end his suffering given – he was too useful a pawn to let him die so soon.</p><p>V could see Nero on his knees beside Vergil, head held up painfully, tears running unchecked down his cheeks. His eyes blazed with love for the other man, begging him for forgiveness. Silly Nero, V chuckled silently, there was never anything to forgive.</p><p>The platform beneath V dropped then, and the noose tightened around his throat strangling him. His legs kicked wildly in unconscious struggle, his body writhing helplessly. No, no! He didn't want Nero to see this, didn't want him to see him suffer like this. Please God, just let him die!</p><p>Nero sobbed as he watched V fall, his heart tearing in two as his neck failed to snap and instead he struggled as he slowly suffocated. He listened as the crowd below him cheered, face contorting into a sneer of disgust, wanting to spit upon them and curse their ancestors and children.</p><p>Vomit rose in his throat as watery green eyes latched onto him 'help me, help me, end me please' V was begging him to just kill him, and Nero couldn't, wouldn't, let him suffer any longer. Tearing himself free from his father's hold, Nero ripped the pistol from the holster off the guard on his right, taking aim with his shaking hand, an apology falling from his lips.</p><p>The loud crack of gunfire had the crowd dropping to the ground, their nervous eyes scanning for the unfortunate victim. It wasn't until an agonised scream rent the air, that they noticed the perfect, round hole through the centre of the man hanging upon the gallows, that they realised what had happened. There was a struggle up in the stands, where guards wrestled a stolen gun off of a desperate man, succeeding in disarming him, and taking away his last hope of joining his lover.</p><p>Nero had shot V, had ended his suffering, and in doing so had sealed his own fate. Vergil glared furiously down at his son, hands tightened into fists as his hand cracked, open palmed across his cheek, hard enough to turn his head.</p><p>“I will make you regret doing that for the rest of your sorry existence.” Hissed Vergil.</p><p>“Nothing you do can be worse than watching my lover be hung, simply for the crime of loving me.” Nero spoke tonelessly, heart no longer beating in his chest – lying dead and unfeeling, left hanging in the town square.</p><p>“Wait for me V, I'll make my way to you as quickly as I can. So don't forget me my love.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. In The Hands Of The Enemy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Pick Who Dies* | Collars | Kidnapped</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nero had known in a vague sort of way, that his father wasn't the upstanding business man that he portrayed himself as - or at least, not only that. But he hadn't realised just how deeply into the Underworld his father had actually dug himself.</p><p>V though, V was definitely part of the Underworld, but not in the same way that his father was; and V had always been honest with Nero, going so far as to warn him of his association before they had gotten involved. It pained Nero to know that V was being used and abused by those unsavoury bastards that kept V chained to their sides, but it didn't change what he felt for the other man. And nothing and no one would keep him from staying by V's side for as long as he was able – not even the threat of punishment could keep him away.</p><p>It wasn't until Nero woke up with a pounding headache, wrists bound behind his back and tied to a chair that reality came crashing down upon him. His eyes swam dizzily and he blinked rapidly to try clearing his vision, the sound of his heartbeat thudding a tattoo in his ears. A pained moan from beside him alerted Nero that he wasn't alone and he cautiously turned his head to look who else was here with him. He croaked out a sound of dismay as he took in V's beaten form, desperately trying to shuffle closer to his lover.</p><p>“V?” Nero croaked out, chair scraping against the stained, concrete ground. “V, baby, can you hear me?”</p><p>“N..Nero? Where are we? What happened?”</p><p>Nero winced at V's hoarse voice, the rough tone sounding even worse than his own. “Not sure where we are, but I think we got jumped after we left Dante's place. I..I can't really remember much, but I think there were a few thugs that appeared out of nowhere.”</p><p>“Makes sense.” V replied despondently. “I'm sorry Nero for this mess. I'm sure this is all because of me and my Underworld involvement....”</p><p>“V, no. It's not your fault ok? It's not..” Nero's voice stopped abruptly as the door the the room slammed open, the dim light that had been filtering in replaced with bright white light from the bare bulb hanging above their heads. With the brighter illumination, Nero was better able to see the room they were being held in.</p><p>Bare concrete floors with blood stains, old and new, splattered across the surface. The same concrete walls, with a tiny window high above head height, showing a view of the ground outside, informing Nero that they must be underground. The door that had opened was reinforced metal, the studs holding it together slightly rusted, but still sturdy. Nothing all that surprising really, typical Underworld room to deal with nuisances.</p><p>The two men that entered was what gave him the biggest shock though. The first man was your typical Underworld boss type, ticking all the boxes for a bad drama stereotype – his appearance making Nero want to roll his eyes. But the other man....the other man was none other than his father. His father that stood just behind the boss, eyes wide in shocked alarm when they met Nero's own.</p><p>“Ho ho ho Vergil, look what we have here!” The man chortled. “A traitor who should know better than to associate with others, and your son who looks like he hasn't learnt not to touch other's possessions.”</p><p>“I-I apologise Sir, I had no idea Nero was consorting with V. I will punish him accordingly.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Vergil stiffened at the question, obviously hearing the mocking sarcasm hidden beneath the jovial tone. “Why don't we deal with it now instead hmm?”</p><p>It was not a suggestion and not a single person within that room took it as such.</p><p>“Now, what would be the best punishment I wonder.....” The boss, tapped his chin as though in thought, but Nero had no doubt that he had already decided what to do. V jerked slightly as he clicked his fingers gleefully, smile spreading across his face. “I know, what better way to teach them a lesson than to make them watch as their loved one is taken apart before their very eyes?”</p><p>Nero's heart stopped in his chest at the implication, terrified eyes meeting his father's.</p><p>“It will also be a lesson for yourself Vergil,” his voice was ice cold, all humour vanished, “to keep better control over your spawn.”</p><p>Vergil remained silent, lips pressed together so tightly they had turned white, a stiff nod his only answer.</p><p>“Now Vergil I'm going to let you have the honour to pick who dies. Will you choose your son, or his lover? Either way, I doubt the boy will speak to you ever again I suppose, so the choice might even be moot. So who will it be?”</p><p>He withdrew a dark pistol from the folds of his coat, clicking off the safety and idly tapping it against his leg as he watched Vergil's face twist in agonised thought.</p><p>“Dad...dad please, choose me. Don't let him kill V....please dad....I can't....can't live without him.”</p><p>“Nero no!” V cried, tears falling from his dull eyes. “You must live. This is my doing, and I will not have you pay the price for my mistakes. Vergil, you know what you need to do.”</p><p>V turned to stare steadily into Vergil's eyes, relief filling him as he saw that the older man would not fail him now. He turned to Nero then, smiling softly at his struggling lover, his last words falling from his lips.</p><p>“I love you Nero, more than life itself.”</p><p>BANG!</p><p>A round hole appeared between V's eyes, and Nero screamed as he watched the life fading from them. He wasn't even aware of when his bonds were released and he fell to the ground, crawling his way over towards where V was still bound upright, blood trickling down his face.</p><p>“Well then, this was entertaining!” The boss' cheerful voice filled Nero with hate, second only to the rage he felt as he stared into the mournful eyes of his father. He hated him, hated him with a passion that equalled the love he felt for V, and he wanted him to suffer like Nero suffered. “Let us be off then Vergil, we have things to do, and another toy to acquire. Ta ta now Sparda son, do keep the weeping to a minimum hmm? The cleaners do so hate the emotional ones.”</p><p>Two sets of footsteps headed out of the room, one more hesitant than the other, but Nero paid them no mind. Having untied V from the chair, Nero held his lover in his arms, burying his face in the crook of his neck, blocking out the sight of that deadly mark, pretending that V was holding him in return.</p><p>“Oh and Nero?” Nero ignored the voice. “I'll just leave this here for you shall I?”</p><p>The clink of metal upon concrete was loud in the room, the slamming of the door sealing Nero inside once more, though he doubted they bothered to lock it this time. With dulled eyes, Nero looked towards where the boss had placed something upon the ground, interest flickering in the depths as he spied the pistol.</p><p>Shuffling them both over to the weapon, Nero wondered just how many people he might be able to shoot for revenge, before he was taken down; but a quick look in the chamber revealed only a single bullet left.</p><p>Ah, so that was what this was, Nero idly surmised. He wondered briefly if his father had known that he would be offered this, though it would serve him right if he didn't. Nero grinned a terrible smile at the thought of his father discovering his body down here wrapped around his lover, the veil of death having fallen over the both of them.</p><p>Fingering the cool metal in his hand, Nero contemplated his choices. He could simply stand up and leave this place, carrying V away from here and burying him in the sunlight where Nero had always thought he belonged, no matter what the other had said. He could storm up to his father and lodge this single bullet through his skull – not his heart, because surely he didn't have a heart, not after he had just ripped Nero's own from his chest – and watch the life fade from those familiar blue eyes.</p><p>Or....or he could end it all here. He could lift the gun and point it at his own head, right between his eyes, and reunite in the afterlife with V.</p><p>Nero sat for what could have been minutes, hours or even days, contemplating. In the end it came down simply to this one fact – he could not, would not, live without V. Choice made, he bent down to press his lips upon V's cold, unmoving mouth, “I'm coming V, please don't be too angry with me yeah? You know I can't do this without you.”</p><p>Lifting the gun, Nero steadied his hand, eyes falling closed as a sense of peace washed over him. It was nearly over; all he had to do was.....</p><p>BANG!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. My Way Or The Highway</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Manhandled | *Forced to their knees* | Held at gunpoint</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a short follow up from last years' prompt 'Muffled Scream' - Chapter 20 in Darkness and Pain.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">V fell to the floor with a thud, forced to his knees by the terrible pressure upon both of his shoulders. His terrified eyes met those of his tormentor, his ex lover – the man he thought that he had finally managed to escape.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero's blue eyes smiled almost fondly down at him, the look too cold to truly bear any warmth. “Ah V, how I've missed seeing you like this. You look beautiful on your knees before me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">One of his hands left V's shoulder to thread itself into V's hair, tangling his fingers in those dark strands and yanking back harshly without warning. V bit down on his tongue to stifle the cry that threatened to escape him, not wishing to give Nero the satisfaction.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero sighed in exasperation, “A-ah now V. You know better than to do that. Did you forget how much I love to hear your voice crying out? Whether it is in pleasure, pain or even fear? There is nothing in this world that arouses me more than the sound of your voice.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's fingers tightened into fists at his sides, wishing so desperately that he could strike Nero's hands from his hair and shoulder, could force himself from his knees and banish Nero from his house – from his life – but he could feel his body tremble, the bone deep fear coursing through him keeping him kneeling before his ex-boyfriend.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>'Oh Gods'</em> V thought to himself, <em>'oh gods I can't do this again. I thought that it was over!'</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But it wasn't over, could never be over. Not now that Nero had managed to track him down to where he had been placed for his protection, not now that V was within his grasp once more. And V knew, now that Nero had found him again, there would not be another chance at escape. Nero would rather kill him than let him leave him again, but V doubted that he would be granted even that dubious mercy.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Now V,” Nero's grip tightened, his mouth pulling into a cruel smile as he started unzipping his pants. “How about you show me just how glad you are to see me?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Running Out Of Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Caged | Buried Alive | *Collapsed Building*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">Dante had spilt off from them, left in a swirl of red leather and casually sarcastic remarks regarding their general uselessness, and how they were holding him back. He couldn't stand to see them growing closer with each passing day, couldn't tolerate the bond that he could see developing between them without a bitter jealousy burning in his chest. So he had left, calling out that he would meet them at the top of the Qliphoth tree.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero had looked devastated when he had been left behind again, hand clinging tightly to V's arm, terrified that he too would leave him behind. Because no one stayed, not for long anyway.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Credo had been like an older brother – grumpy and gruff, but welcoming him into the fold, right up until he betrayed him and tried to kill him instead; ultimately losing his life to try saving Kyrie.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His parents had left him, or had they ever even been there to start with? His mother had left him, staying just long enough to birth him, before disappearing from his life. Whether she had died at his birth, or just decided that he was unwanted, she had never been a part of his life. Not even leaving a clue as to who she was, nor who his father might be.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Friends and brothers from the Order. They had betrayed him and allowed themselves to be possessed by demons, to try tampering with the laws of nature and bring a Demon from the Underworld to rule over them all. Nero had felt each and every one of their deaths as though they were a stab to his own heart, weeping tears of agony as each brother fell to his blade.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Kyrie and Nico had stayed, but a small part of his mind that he tried to ignore, told Nero that it was only a matter of time before they too left him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V gripped Nero's hand tightly, as the younger man stood trembling, watching Dante's form disappear. He wasn't sure how long they remained standing in that position, thinking that perhaps Nero was hoping that the older man might change his mind and return to them, but it was getting dark by the time he managed to get Nero moving once more. He gently led him to an abandoned house, laying him down in the bed and curling up around him; just holding him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Days passed and V noted how despondent Nero was being. He lacked that fire that had first drawn V to him, his movements slow and uncoordinated at times, reckless and stupid at others. But throughout the whole time, Nero remained constantly at V's side; never letting the other out of his sight, as though he too would disappear if he so much as turned away for a moment.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was already a bad day for Nero when the tragedy occurred; one of Nero's slow days, when he couldn't seem to bring his blade up fast enough to block a strike, nor dodge out of the way. His bullets flew wide, missing his targets by huge gaps, and he fumbled with the metal casings as he tried to reload.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They had entered an old hotel cautiously, following a suspicious demon into the crumbling building. Their steps were slow and cautious, the holes in the floor threatening to send them plummeting several stories down, plaster raining down upon their heads as demons stalked the floors above. Their last fight had led them into a balcony suite, the room all but destroyed as they fought their way free from the trap that had been laid for them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was as V slowly straightened up that he heard the cracking sound. At first his eyes had flown to the flooring, but besides a few new surface scratches, it seemed relatively intact and unlikely to collapse unaided. It was when the small chunks of plaster fell like snow from the ceiling to land upon his head, that V's eyes widened in horror, a choked cry escaping his lips as the ceiling fell.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nero!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V could only watch in horrified disbelief as everything fell – almost in slow motion – as Nero put on a burst of speed and pushed him out of the way. Before his eyes, Nero was knocked by the heavy chunks of plaster, the ground giving way beneath the onslaught, sending both man and debris crashing down several floors.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“NERO!” V's cry was even more desperate, and without thought he summoned Griffon to glide his way down to him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Before his feet even touched the ruined floor, V released his hold on Griffon, ignoring his squawk of chastisement, to rush towards the spot Nero had fallen. Instead of the sight of the other male, V was met with a huge pile of rubble, the very edge of a tattered coat peeking out from beneath the shattered concrete. Grabbing the edge of a piece with his trembling hands, V tried to pull it away from where it buried Nero. His arms shook with effort, and still he had not managed to budge it even a single inch.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Summoning Nightmare in this ruin was probably not V's brightest idea, but by this time he was desperate to uncover Nero. Nightmare made short work of the rubble, Shadow slipping beneath the cracks to stay by Nero's side. V helped where he could, hauling smaller rubble from the pile and calling out to Nero whenever he managed to catch his breath. They were nearly at the bottom of the pile when V heard Nero's voice call out to him, a sob catching in his throat.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He fell to his knees beside the small opening they had managed to make, crawling forwards and inching his hand into the gap. His searching fingers finally managed to collide with Nero's arm, and he curled them around the material of his coat tightly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“N-Nero?” V all but whispered, terrified that he wouldn't get a response from the other man.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“V?” V would have missed the thready voice of Nero if he hadn't been straining his ears.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hold on ok? Nightmare is going to get you out of there. You'll be fine ok, just hold on for me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V couldn't hear how much his voice trembled as he tried to reassure Nero, barely felt him move his arm so that their fingers tangled together, Nero managing to offer a weak squeeze in response. His eyes watched anxiously as Nightmare pulled the heavy pieces away, tossing them to the side almost carelessly. They were almost there, V could see, and a frustrated yell escaped him as his strength failed him and Nightmare disappeared.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tearing his hand from Nero's loose grasp, V tore recklessly at the remaining rubble, hands turning bloodied as he cut himself on sharp edges and rough surfaces. Shadow helped where he could, slinking beneath pieces and pushing them away from Nero; until finally they managed to uncover his broken form. V choked back the cry that rose in his throat as he finally took in the sight of his lover, his body bloodied and broken, covered in dust, a look of pained resignation painted across his face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey.” V wanted scream at him, wanted to rage and tear the gods from their thrones to punish them for taking Nero from him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nero....” V fell to his knees harshly, before gently gathering Nero into his arms, his heavy head resting upon his chest limply. V wasn't sure if he felt grateful or terrified that Nero hadn't even winced in pain as he was moved.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I'm sorry V.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Swallowing heavily as he ran careful fingers through Nero's tangled hair, V finally managed to force out his question. “What are you sorry for? This isn't your fault.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sorry that this time I'm going to be the one leaving you behind. Wish I could stay by your side forever.” Tears started tracking down Nero's face then, and he tried to clutch at V's arm with his trembling hands.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It's ok...I'll....I'll be ok Nero. You'll always be with me, because I will never forget you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I'm glad,” Nero murmured, voice starting to slur, even as his breaths stuttered in his chest. “I love you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I love you too.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero didn't hear V's tearful response, his eyes fluttering closed, chest falling still.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That night, agonised howls filled the air, the mournful cries of a wildcat joining in, and sending shivers down the spines of all who heard.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Dante cracked a cocky smirk at the dark haired conjurer, eyes darting over his haggard form in amusement, before looking around for Nero.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Boy you guys sure took your sweet time getting here; in fact I've already dealt with Urizen.” Dante started feeling unease settle into his stomach as Nero still didn't appear. “Where's Nero?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The look that V shot Dante, froze his insides, his heart crumbling to dust as he registered the blank voice answering his question.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nero...didn't make it.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“On time right? Nero didn't make it on time. But he'll be here soon won't he?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“No.” There was not a single trace of life left in that darkly, hypnotic voice. Just exhaustion and an eerie void of emotion that made V sound as dead as he looked “You left him, and he did not make it.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Dante flinched back harshly at the stark words, regret starting to fill him now for abandoning the kid. He hadn't meant for something like this to happen; had only wanted to toughen him up a little, had wanted him to wake up and see that starting a relationship with V would only end in heartache. But his good intentions meant nothing now, and Dante grieved.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He looked up to see that V had limped past him, his weak body on the verge of collapse, even as he determinedly strode towards Urizen's downed form. Griffon and Shadow helped him to climb the huge body, his harsh breathing shaking his entire form. As he stared down at the other half of himself, V did not feel the terror or reluctance to disappear that he had thought he would; the death of Nero stealing away his wish to continue living. A small hidden smile tugged at his lips as he raised his cane to deliver the final blow, knowing that with this, he would be returned to nothing and would no longer feel the aching pain in his heart.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Plunging the cane downwards with all of his strength, a great flash of light filled the area, and V knew no more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Where Do You Think You're Going?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*On the run* | Failed escape | Rescue</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">Nero threw open the door to his rented room, hurriedly finding a duffle bag and throwing anything he could lay his hands on inside. His hands trembled in fear as he stuffed everything he owned into the bag, before hurrying towards the figure sleeping peacefully upon the bed. Shaking their shoulder with more force than intended, Nero called out to them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“V! Wake up please. We need to go now!” As he spoke Nero pulled the covers from V's limp form, grabbing a long hooded coat to wrap the other man up in.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Green eyes cracked open sluggishly, V slowly turning towards his lover. “N-Nero? What's going on? Is it evening already?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“No baby, it's not. But we don't have time to waste. The Hunters are on their way, and we need to leave now.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The sleepiness fled from V's eyes as Nero's words registered in his mind, and he sprung up from the bed hastily. Nero wrapped the coat around him, pulling the hood cover his head and sliding on a pair of sunglasses to protect his eyes from the sun, still high up in the afternoon sky. Together they fled the room, leaving anything that they couldn't carry, the door left swinging as they rushed outside.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With pounding hearts and stuttered breaths, the pair slipped through the streets, tempering their pace so as not to draw attention to themselves, while still making haste. V winced as the sunlight danced over his covered body, stumbling slightly as his strength waned. Nero threw the bag he carried onto his back, grasping V's hand within his own and urging him along worriedly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Their hurried footsteps finally brought them to the garage where they kept Nero's bike, only to curse and withdraw as they saw a group of Hunters staking it out. Nero was pretty sure that he would be able to take them all out, but he wasn't sure if there were more lurking around, and he didn't want to draw their attention with the sounds of fighting, leaving V exposed and unprotected.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They had to make a decision and soon. They could either try their luck at sneaking into the garage, perhaps around the back, assuming they hadn't set up a watch there also; they could try to wait them out until night when V would regain his strength and fight their way in; or they could abandon the bike altogether.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">As much as it would hurt, Nero knew that leaving the bike was probably the smartest choice, but it felt like leaving a part of himself behind. His old man and uncle had given that bike to him on his eighteenth birthday; just days before they had been gunned down by Hunters in their little country town. They had both been human, painfully so, but their strange white hair, and odd ways of living had the Hunters drawing incorrect conclusions, and they had shot first and left before even verifying the kills were supernatural beings.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That had been nearly seven years ago now, and Nero had been on his own for around three years, going around and taking down as many Hunters as he could, when he had stumbled across V being attacked. They had had him surrounded, dragged from his safe haven while the sun was at it's highest. Nero had been able to smell the scent of burning flesh before he had even made it close to the group, the look of despair and pain upon the vampire's face sending a bolt of hatred through Nero's veins for the Hunters.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He hadn't even given it a second thought before he had withdrawn his pistol and shot two of the Hunters, the remaining three staring in shock as their comrades went down. It had given the vampire time to scramble beneath the shade of his safe house, where he huddled into a ball, skin still smoking lightly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero had pulled his sword from his back then, swinging the blade through the air and splitting the remaining men in twain, snorting in derision as he flicked the blood from the steel. The vampire had shied away from Nero as he had approached, eyeing him warily as he crouched before him. Nero had looked at the destroyed skin upon his body, noticing the cracks and flecks of skin flaking off of him. He needed blood to heal, and lots of it too by the looks of things. Wasn't it convenient that there were five bodies right there that he could drink from?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero had risen abruptly, sending the vampire skittering backwards, before he strode out into the light and grabbed the nearest body, dragging the woman back towards the other man. He threw the body forwards, dust rising from the ground as it landed with a dull thud. The vampire looked from Nero to the body in distrust, shifting away slightly, even as hunger filled his gaze.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Go on drink. You need it.” Nero cajoled. “It's only fitting that their blood should be used to heal the damage that they caused you. I won't judge you, so go ahead and drink.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V hadn't been able to resist after that, pulling the woman close, before his fangs extended and he sank them into her throat, drinking deeply. Nero had brought him the other four bodies after that, sheepishly apologising for the loss of blood from those he had cut in two.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">After that, they had decided to travel together, growing closer, learning about each other and becoming more than just travelling partners. Over the years they had been hunted in every place they stopped; whether it be after days or weeks, they were always tracked down. Terror dogged their steps as they lived their lives on the run, never knowing just when their time might be up.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Peering around the corner once more, Nero was disturbed to note that three of the Hunters had disappeared from the front of the garage. His eyes scanned the area frantically, hoping against hope that he could locate them, even if just to give himself peace of mind. His heart dropped like a stone in his chest when he heard V gasp behind him, not even needing to turn around to know that they had been found.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Drop your weapons and turn around nice and slow now yeah?” The gruff voice instructed Nero. “Don't even think of trying anything funny, or my partner's hand might just slip and the bloodsucker with lose his pretty head.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero dropped both his sword and pistol, turning slowly to face their attackers. The rest of the Hunters had joined them by now, surrounding them, weapons pointed threateningly towards them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“This is the end of the road pal.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Those were the last words Nero registered before darkness overcame him, V's screams echoing in his ears.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Please....</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*"Get it out"* | No more | "Stop, please"</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: Self harm and suicide attempts</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">Nero stared down at V's wreaked form, tears gathering in his eyes, even as he tried desperately to keep them from falling. He knew that if he let himself cry, if he let himself break, then he would scream and yell and fall apart completely; and that's not what V needed from him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He reached out one of his trembling hands to grasp at V's restrained hand, running his fingers gently over the paper thin skin. A small wince crossed his face, when Nero noticed that blood still remained beneath V's ragged nails, the nurses not having managed to remove it – could never manage to fully remove it, as V always somehow managed to be tainted with the the rust coloured stain these days. Wires connected V to an assortment of machines, each monitoring his condition, while pumping him full of a mixture of blood, antibiotics and some mild sedatives also; not enough to keep him under completely, but enough to make him almost constantly drowsy.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Both of his wrists were strapped to the bed, the lined cuffs tight around his thin limbs, in an effort to both keep V from re-injuring himself, and to keep him from attempting to escape. The first time V had managed to shake off the haze of unreality, no one had been around and he had taken the opportunity to stumble from his room and out of the hospital. It was only luck that Nero had caught him as he entered the building, making his daily pilgrimage to visit his friend (though at one time he had hoped to call him lover).</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V had attempted to flee as soon as he caught sight of the white haired young man, though there was no way he had been able to outpace the healthy, fit body of Nero; not while he was weak and already halfway to death's door. He'd yelled and screamed as his hand was caught up in an unrelenting grip, drawing attention to them both and bringing dozens of orderlies spilling from the hospital to investigate the noise.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero had ignored his screams, brushing off the weak punches and desperate attempts to claw his way free; wrapping him up in his arms gently but firmly, free hand stroking through his greasy hair tenderly. But still V fought, until the strength left his body and he fell into Nero's waiting arms, gripping him tightly as he dissolved into floods of tears. He clung to Nero's arm as the orderlies came to take him back inside, refusing to be taken back without the other man. Nero had carried him back into the hospital, lying him down upon his bed again and staying while they reattached all of the wires he had ripped free in his bid for freedom.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">As they injected a sedative into his drip, V couldn't help but whisper a half heard apology.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I'm sorry Nero. Forgive me, because I don't want to do this anymore.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero swallowed the lump that rose in his throat at those words – not <em>couldn't,</em> not <em>wouldn't</em>; but didn't want to. V didn't want to keep fighting against his demons, didn't want to keep living. He wanted to give up and leave Nero to live alone without him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I'm sorry V,” Nero whispered against the cool skin of V's knuckles, lips pressing against them. “I can't let you go. Not like this, never like this.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gods Nero wanted this to be a nightmare. Wanted everything that had happened from the moment he had walked into V's apartment for a couple of beers and a movie, only to see him standing in his kitchen, knife in hand, carving deep lines into his arms, to not be real.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The beer had shattered as it fell from his suddenly nerveless fingers, and Nero wasn't sure how long he stood there with wide, disbelieving eyes, before he had finally sprung into action. Wrenching the knife from V's hand had been difficult, the other unwilling to release the blade, trying to continue spilling his lifeblood; watching as crimson welled and dripped to the floor. Nausea threatened to overcome Nero as he saw just how much blood was splattered over the once pristine floor; taking in just how chalk white V appeared to be.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">On closer inspection, V looked on the verge of collapse and it seemed that will power alone was the only thing that was keeping him standing. Though not for long if the amount of swaying he was doing was any indication.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Grabbing the dish towel from it's hook, Nero wrapped it tightly around V's arm, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling for an ambulance. He couldn't remember anything about the call, just that he had begged them to hurry, dropping his phone with a shout as V tore off the cloth binding, sinking his nails into the wounds and trying to tear them open wider.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“V! V STOP!” Nero begged, taking hold of both of his hands within his own, grip nearly crushing them. “Please stop, why are you doing this?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I need to get it out Nero.” V murmured, eyes widening as he saw the puddle of blood he had left, a morbid smile stretching across his lips.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Get what out V? What do you need to get out? Your blood?” Nero was confused and terrified. He strained his ears, listening for the ambulance, but could hear nothing yet.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“His blood. It runs through my veins also Nero. It makes me a monster, just like he was.” V's eyes drifted towards Nero as he spoke, his gaze hazy, but Nero could see the desperation behind his words reflected there still. He knew, he knew who V was speaking of and the hatred he felt for that man increased tenfold.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You are not a monster V. You are not your father, and no matter that you share the same blood, you are better than he will ever be. Please, please believe me V.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero tried desperately to reassure V, but he knew that the other man could not – would not – believe him. He could see it in the way that V wouldn't meet his gaze, how his lips pressed tightly together until they turned white. He could tell in the way that V wrenched his hand from his slackened grip to tear at the wounds once more, spilling more of that tainted blood upon the floor.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You are kind to say so Nero,” V uttered, somehow managing to avoid Nero's grasping hands, weak though he was. “But until every last drop is drained from me, I will never be clean.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But you'll die if you do that V! You'll die!” Nero screamed, hoping that that would get through to him. His heart shattered as V spoke softly, but firmly in reply.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“If that is what it takes to rid me of this taint, then I welcome death with open arms.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sirens wailing in the distance were the only sounds left in the apartment, as Nero tackled V to the ground, uncaring of the blood drying in tacky puddles upon the floor; holding his hands within his own once more, arms wrapped tightly around his body to keep him from trying to escape again. He buried his face in V's hair, tears falling to wet the dark strands tangled at his nape; but V didn't utter a single word about the dampness that he felt.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That had been more than a month ago now, and by the time they had gotten V to the hospital that first time, he had fallen into a coma. They had put him on medication and a strict schedule of therapy the first time he had awoken, and it seemed that it had been working; right up until V's escape. Nero had seen how V seemed to be in a perpetual haze from the moment he woke, like he was living in a dream world where nothing was real and nothing mattered, and he had hated it. He had hated that V had broken free from the hospital and tried to run away also, but at least he had known that was V who was doing that, not the stranger who had been lying in the bed since the incident.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Now they kept V's hands bound when he was in his room and not supervised by doctors. It had taken a few attempts at bleeding himself dry once more for them to realise that even during daylight hours, when there were people bustling around the hospital everywhere, V was not averse to making another attempt.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero's fingers brushed hesitantly over the cuffs as he held V's hand within his own, telling himself that it was ok to release them since he was here watching over V. He knew that the doctors wouldn't be happy with him, but as long as nothing happened, then no one really needed to know did they? Decision made, Nero tugged at the buckles of the cuff closest to him, pulling them free and rubbing V's wrist gently. He leant over his sleeping form to open the remaining cuff, watching as V rolled over and curled up on his side now that he was freed.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He wasn't sure just when he managed to fall asleep, but the sound of wailing alarms and screaming woke Nero up with a jolt. Before him, upon the bed, V lay peacefully, a small content smile curving his chapped lips, his body painted crimson and rust. In his hand, a small pocket knife that Nero carried with him, that V had given to him in better times, the blade stained with his friend's lifeblood. Stupid, so stupid, why had he clutched on to that small reminder of the man V had been before his demons had devoured him?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nurses rushed into the room with a crash cart, pushing and shoving Nero away from the bloodied mess of his friend, but he knew that it was already too late to save him. V had bided his time, and he had not failed in this gamble.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">As the door to the room slammed closed, Nero looked at the message that V had left for him, written in his own blood, painted across Nero's own sleeve.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>'I'm sorry.'</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. I've Got You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Support | Carrying |*Enemy to caretaker*</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, not so much enemies as they are rivals? Ish?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">Sudden harsh knocking against his window sent V springing from his bed, sword raised and ready to attack his assailant, body tense as he stared towards the shadowed glass pane. Just as he was about to put it down to his imagination, a pale hand reached up and tapped against the glass again, leaving small red smears upon the surface.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With a startled exclamation, V hurried towards the window, hesitating briefly before opening it and allowing the intruder in. It was only as he caught sight of the familiar snow white hair and pale blue eyes of Nero, that he felt more secure in letting him in. Although he would hardly call the other man a friend – he was more akin to an enemy (if V was feeling uncharitable) or rival – he trusted that he would not do anything to put him in unnecessary danger.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">As soon as the window was slid up, the bloodied hand gripped the ledge, hauling the rest of the body through the gap; Nero flopping onto the ground bonelessly. Where he lay a messy crimson puddle began to soak into V's clean floors, much to his annoyance, tempered only by the slight worry he felt at seeing the other man in such a state.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His white hair was liberally streaked with blood (probably where he'd run his fingers through the limp strands), his shirt full of rips and holes, through which V could see wounds that oozed blood still. His right ankle looked swollen, and V was pretty sure that he wasn't going to be able to save Nero's boot if they didn't get it off soon. His weapons were still gripped in his tightly fisted hands, both covered with the spray of blood and other matter.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V let out a slow breath, mind categorising what he needed to deal with first, if only because he really didn't want to have to deal with removing Nero's corpse from his bedroom. First they needed to remove Nero's boot, then clean and bandage him up. V was sure he had a suture kit in the bathroom, if he needed it, but he hoped he didn't. For all that he was a highly skilled fighter, V was not a fan of needles. At all.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Heading down the hall at a quick clip, V returned just as hastily with all of the supplies he thought he might need; his sword replaced in it's resting place.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">First he rolled Nero onto some old towels, murmuring quietly to the other man so that he didn't startle him into trying to retaliate. Then he very carefully tugged open the laces on his right boot as far as they would go, easing the leather over the swelling as gently as possible. He still winced as he had to tug slightly when it got stuck, Nero's hiss of pain sending a bolt of sympathy flooding through V.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Next V cut the ruined shirt from Nero's body, dabbing at the blood covering the skin with disinfectant wipes, taking note of at least two cuts that he would need to stitch; the others would do fine with a few butterfly sutures. Preparing to apply the sutures, V handed Nero a piece of old leather that he could bite down on, offering a few painkillers to take the edge off; though not surprisingly, they were refused.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero moaned in pain as the needle slipped through his flesh, teeth clamping down upon the leather as the thread pulled at the edges of his skin. Pierce, pull, pierce, pull....this went on for another six stitches before V finally snipped the end of the thread. Nero's face and chest were slick with sweat by this time, and V handed him a towel to blot the moisture away, giving him a few minutes before he started on the next injury. Once he was finally done, he taped a few layers of gauze over both wounds, bandaged up his swollen foot, then proceeded to check Nero over for any broken ribs. Aside from some truly nasty bruising, he appeared to have escaped without any broken bones.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Hauling the larger man up with a surprising amount of strength for someone so lean, V dragged Nero's wobbly form into his bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet and running him a bath. His arm was grabbed before he could leave, and after turning around in surprise and taking in Nero's begging look, V sighed and helped him into the warm water. Giving in to his fate, V helped Nero wash the rest of the blood from his body – pointedly not helping him wash below his waist – and rinsing his hair of the streaks of blood.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero looked to almost be falling asleep sitting in the tub, so V drained the water and wrapped him in a towel, leading him into his bedroom and lying him down upon the bed. Setting Nero down for the night, V sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the other man.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He was not on particularly bad terms with Nero, but they weren't exactly friends either. They definitely weren't on good enough terms to rock up unannounced at the others' house for medical aid with no questions asked either. But well, here Nero was. Which made V wonder, just how did Nero know where he lived?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Reaching out his hand towards Nero, V brushed a few of the unruly strands of hair off of his face. “Why me Nero? Why did you come here?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Because I knew that you would help me.” Nero's hoarse voice startled V, having assumed he had fallen asleep.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But why here? Why not one of the members from your group?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“There was a double agent.... and they betrayed us.” Nero's voice hitched with anger. “We all scattered, can't go back yet.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Ah.” V didn't know what to say to that, so let silence fall once more.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“ 'M sorry for barging in like this, but I couldn't think of anywhere else to go.” Nero's blue eyes drooped slightly, his gaze drifting away from V's stare.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Just..don't make this a habit ok? If you get caught coming here, it will cause problems for both of us.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V rubbed his eyes tiredly, debating whether he should sleep on the couch in the lounge that was about a foot too short to be comfortable, or just suck it up and lie down beside the injured Nero. His decision was taken out of his hands as Nero tugged at his arm lightly, tilting his head towards the unoccupied side of the bed questioningly. With a little shrug, V finally lay down, pulling the covers up over himself, body relaxing now that the adrenaline had faded. Eyes fluttering closed, V huffed an acknowledgement as Nero's quiet voice broke the silence, just before sleep claimed him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Good night V. And...thanks for saving me tonight.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Where Did Everybody Go?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Don't say goodbye" | *Abandoned* | Isolation</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">It was cold and wet, the rain pouring down from the skies angrily, winds lashing the trees into a frenzy, their branches creaking ominously and making the small child huddled beneath seeking shelter, cower.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He wanted to run away from this place to find shelter somewhere else. He wanted his mama and papa to be there beside him and hold him close. But they had left him in this spot hours ago, telling him to stay here and wait for them to come back for him. And he was a good boy. He would stay right here until they came back, he wouldn't move, wouldn't make them angry or worried if they returned and found him gone. No matter how much he shivered and shook, he would not leave.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There were hardly any others out on the road now, most had already hurried home before the worst of the storm had hit; their brightly coloured umbrellas lending a splash of colour to the grey skies and brown tree trunks. If he stood on his tip toes, the roof of their house could just be seen over the hill, the slow curl of smoke rising from their chimney making hope flood through him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Mama and Papa must be home again! He should go to them!</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He moved to step from beneath the unreliable shelter of the tree when he paused. No, they had told him to wait here, so he would. He had already made them angry earlier when he had spilled a well of ink over a stack of important documents, the sting of his mama's slap still tingling painfully along the skin of his cheek. His ears still rung with the screams of his father, the bruises blooming around his arm where he had been dragged from the house. They had brought him out here then, telling him they needed to go somewhere to get the documents fixed up, and they couldn't take him just in case he ruined them again. He was to wait here, and they would return for him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was difficult to tell, but he was sure hours must have passed since he first caught sight of that hope inducing smoke rising from the chimney, and still his parents did not come. It surely must be close to dinner time by now; the angry growls of his stomach making him frown, hands pressed against the dull ache. He started to grow more afraid as what little light there had been started to fade, the shadows of the trees turning darker, his mind turning their swishing branches into the limbs of dangerous monsters famished for the taste of naughty children.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He sank to the ground, burrowing himself against he trunk of the tree, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his head. His hands raised up to cover his ears to block out the howls of the wind, the sound akin to that of all sorts of terrors lurking. His eyes squeezed closed tightly, until bright lights flashed behind his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he had sat curled in a terrified ball when the first flake of icy cold softness landed upon his neck; melting instantly and leaving a small wet patch behind, almost like a frozen kiss.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He lifted his head to take in the beautiful curtain of falling white that drifted almost lazily from the sky, replacing the unrelenting water from before. With a tentative hand, he reached out to catch more of the flakes upon his hand, giggling quietly to himself as they melted as soon as they touched his skin, until his hand was icy cold and they remained there for several seconds before disappearing beneath the new flakes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His shivers had started to subside now, surrounded by the soft fluffy comfort of the falling snow and he huddled deeper into the little drift that had built up around him while he had been entranced by the snow. He was growing tired now, but at least his tummy had stopped growling as he played. Perhaps if he went to sleep now, his mama and papa would come for him in the morning. They would see how good he was at listening and would be so happy with him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His eyes drifted closed as he snuggled into the snow, his mind wondering just how something that had at first felt so cold, now felt so warm against his frozen form. His slow, unsteady breaths made not a single cloud of mist as he breathed; until they too ceased, the small heart beat stuttering once, twice, then falling silent.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The next morning a travelling merchant stumbled across the small frozen form of the young boy, tracks of frozen tears hardened upon his cheeks. It didn't hide the purpling mark upon his face however, nor the half starved body half covered with ragged clothing. It was instantly apparent that the child had been abandoned out here in the snow, and with a heavy heart, he dug out the little body and covered him in a blanket, gently brushing the limp strands of dark hair away from his wan face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He had trade to do today, but when he was finished, he would dig a little grave for the poor boy and give him his last rites. No one deserved to leave this world on their own, and he hoped that by doing this for the boy, he could give him the peace he deserved in the next life.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">As he stood before the shallow grave that he had carved into the frozen ground, the trader felt sorrow at the loss of a young life well up within his chest. He had no name and no money to place upon a grave marker, instead fashioning a crude cross using a pair of sticks and a length of twine from his cart. laying that small, innocent babe into the grave, still covered in the blanket he had wrapped him in, he covered him up, staying crouched before the freshly dug earth, hand pressed down upon the surface solemnly. He didn't know who that child had belonged to, but he hoped that wherever he was now, he was happy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I didn't actually ever put a name to this child, but hopefully you can guess who it is meant to be.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. For The Greater Good</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Take me instead!" | "Run!" | *Ritual sacrifice*</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ooops a little late but here it is.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">The Spardas were the highest ranked Demons in their part of the world, and to keep them appeased each village made offerings, in exchange for protection and prosperity, once a year. What offerings or rituals involved differed depending upon their location, some making offerings of the best of their sweet or dark bitter wines. Those closest to the rivers offered freshly caught fish, and trinkets made from the bones of their catches. The finest pelts and juiciest cuts of meat were left for them in the hunting regions, a favourite of most of the Demon clan. The blood that ran from the meat was thick and sweet on their tongues.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Red Grave though, wasn't able to hunt anything, the plains surrounding the village barren and dry; fires having ravaged the area and continuous attacks from all sides offering them little chance to trade for the supplies needed to re-seed the fields. They were too far inland to catch fish, the meat rotten and spoiled by the time they would haul a catch home, and the animals that wandered through the area were lean and so terrifyingly ugly that it would be considered more of an insult to the Demons to offer them than to offer nothing at all.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">So they offered the only thing that they had available to them – a beautiful virgin on the eve of each new year. Because although their land was harsh and ugly, their children were handsome enough to make even the gods weep in envy. Their sacrifice must be a virgin of course, because the purer the body, the more favour the Spardas would show them. And so each year, every eligible man, woman, boy or girl would be gathered and the elders would chose from the few who had managed to hold on to their chastity. Although the elders considered being offered an honour, that did not mean that those at risk felt the same; and so most would attempt to lose their virginity at the soonest possible chance.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The girls were stripped bare before the crowds gathered, and the chief would test their purity; the shame that befell the family if she was not pure enough to have the whole town shunning them until the next year's offerings were brought forward. The boys were almost impossible to test, but that did not stop them from shoving their hands and fingers into their bodies harshly, watching dispassionately as they screamed as their bodies were breeched with no care. If they were to have a reaction to the intrusion, then they were deemed impure, and stoned. The boys were not as important as the girls were for breeding the next generation, and so they were put to death.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">This year V had been selected as the sacrifice; his leanly muscled body deemed pleasing to the eye, his dark hair that gleamed like raven's wings eye catching and unusual amongst the rest of them who bore brown or red hair. His clear green eyes were the colour of the grasses and plants that refused to grow in their lands, and they hoped that it would be a good omen for fertility to touch their barren fields once his blood was spilled over them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He had stood proudly and silent as he was stripped of his undergarments, enduring the intrusive prod of the old man's fingers within his body with gritted teeth, even as the elder tried to provoke him by shifting his hand tauntingly. He had felt regret, but no fear as his family had screamed for him as he was chosen, led from the square to be bathed and prepared for the ritual, their cries filling his ears and bringing tears to his eyes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">In the baths, older maids came forwards to scrub harshly at his pale skin before anointing him with oils and an array of sweet fragrances, all in hopes of making him tempting enough for him not to be turned away by the Spardas. If such an event would happen, surely tragedy would strike them harshly that year.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">When the twilight hour struck, V was draped in an ornamental robe and led barefoot away from the village, the elders carrying torches beside them to light the way in a solemn procession. It took them less than ten minutes to arrive at the great stone table that served as the monument to their Demon masters, old rust coloured stains embedded deeply in the groves carved upon the surface.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Instructed to lie upon the cold stone, V was then tied down at the wrists and ankles, each spread to a different corner of the table. His robe was opened, leaving his naked skin to pimple in the cool night air, shivers wracking his form; whether in fear or in cold, they neither knew nor cared.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V closed his eyes to escape their lecherous eyes, covetously scanning over his bared flesh, biting down upon his tongue to stop himself from hissing in pain at the first touch of cold iron upon his skin. Meticulously, the symbols for the ritual were carved into his body, his lifeblood oozing from his wounds, trailing down his sides to join the old blood from years past; all the while chanting in the old language.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Once they were sure that the blood letting would continue and the ritual complete, the elders turned and left V lying tied and prone upon the stone table, his life slowly ebbing. Without a single backwards glance, he was left alone to die for their ideals.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V shivered and shook where he lay, body growing weaker and weaker and every second spent there felt like an eternity. His eyes started to droop closed, too tired to hold them open any longer; but before his lids covered his sight, a vision dressed in blue and red flashed before his eyes. His lips twitched into the faintest of smiles as he succumbed to the darkness.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero stood beside the stone table upon which their sacrifice lay, taking in the sight of the young man before him. It was a pity this one had been used for the ritual, he mused, reaching out a finger to dip into the dripping blood for a taste. He would have liked to have had the chance to take him to the Demon realm with him for the night, or maybe even longer he mused, eyes trailing down the exposed form.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Oh well, what was done was done and the ritual was complete. Nero untied the lifeless body from the table, hefting it into his arms and covering himself in that sweet, rich, dark blood. <em>Virgin blood.</em> And with this sacrifice, the price for the protection upon this land had been paid in full for the year. Waving his hand to reset the protections and even adding a little something for luck (as thanks for the splendid offering), Nero turned on his heel and left with their prize.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Hopefully the village would be able to live up to their heightened expectations for the coming year also.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. They Look So Pretty When They Bleed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blood loss | Internal bleeding | *Trail of blood*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil grinned ferally, licking the blood from his teeth, eyes glinting with a hint of madness reflected within the blue depths.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Upon the ground he could see the trail of blood that his prey had left in his attempt to escape, a dark chuckle falling from his lips. Ah, how he loved to watch his little pet struggle. He hadn't learnt yet, that escape was not an option and that the more he tried, the shorter his leash would grow. After all, it wouldn't do for Vergil to allow his other half to escape him and try to foil his plans so easily, now would it?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh Vee<em>ee</em>, come out, come out <em>wherever</em> you are.” The sing song tone was mocking, and Vergil caught the faint hitch of breath from above, his little pet having tried to fool him into following the trail of blood when he had obviously doubled back and attempted to trick him. He was probably up there right now, clutching at whatever weapon he had found, lying in wait to try to kill him. Vergil snorted to himself. Like he would ever be bested by anyone, let alone a mere <em>human</em>.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Now where could my pretty little pet have run off to?” Vergil mocked, footsteps light as he made his way towards where he was sure the trap lay. “Don't you want to reunite V? Don't you wish that you could be one with me once more?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil had finally reached the spot below V, his head remaining tilted slightly to the side, but his eyes pointed towards the support beams above his position. Upon the rotted wood, he managed to catch sight of a shadowy V, crouched upon the beam and clutching a sliver of metal; most likely a broken shard picked up from the many littering the floor.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil stood below the other man, body relaxed, and waited for the trap to spring. He didn't have to wait long before V dropped from the ceiling, metal extended outwards ready to stab Vergil through his chest, his throat, or anywhere he could reach; face set in an expression of both fear and resolve.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Raising his arm up, almost lazily, Vergil deftly avoided the makeshift weapon to grasp at V's throat, squeezing the soft, vulnerable flesh tightly in his fist. Almost unconsciously, V dropped the metal, both hands rising up to try to pry the hand away, feet kicking uselessly in the air where he was held.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Now, now V. That was not very nice now was it?” Vergil asked calmly, eyes gleefully watching as V's face slowly started to turn blue, his eyes watering as he struggled to pull in air.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Easing up slightly on his hold (it wouldn't do to kill him so quickly now) Vergil dropped him to the ground, where V knelt on his knees, panting and drawing in desperate breaths. Summoning Yamato to his hand, Vergil chuckled as V's eyes tracked the blade's movements, before he tutted at the other man in disappointment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ah ah ah, V. Don't think I will let you escape me so easily now. What I have planned for you, is so much more.....<em>entertaining</em> than merely ending your pathetic existence now. No we are going to give them <em>hope</em>, only to shatter it just when they think they have won!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As he spoke, Vergil untied the long ribbon from Yamato's sheath, before tying it tightly around V's neck in a makeshift collar and leash. Satisfied that it would not loosen, Vergil yanked on the length, causing V to lurch towards him. Wrapping the ribbon around his hand, Vergil gripped V's chin tightly, tilting his head up towards his own before he outlined his plan to his unwilling accomplice.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You will go to Dante and tell him that I have returned. You will help him to find me, and aid him and his allies to assure they make it to the place of my choosing. And when he turns to fight me, when he turns his back towards you, that is when you will stab him in the back with this blade.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil held out a long knife, beautifully carved and wickedly sharp, towards V, pressing it into his hands hard enough to slice at his soft skin; more blood spilling from his wounds to join the trail he had left earlier.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Do you understand?” V turned his eyes away, face still held in that immoveable grip. “I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND!” Vergil growled, tightening the ribbon encircling his neck.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yes.” V's voice was choked and barely audible, but it satisfied Vergil all the same.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Good. Do not think to betray me V. I will know, and you will not like the consequences.” Without any further words, Vergil released his hold on V's face, turning away and opening up a portal. “I will now begin my plan, and I expect to see you all within the month. Don't disappoint me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">With a dramatic flare of his coat, Vergil disappeared, leaving V tied, broken and bleeding; alone in the ruin of a house.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Psych 101</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Defiance | *Struggling* | Crying</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Getting in some Vergil feels here.<br/>OMG how good does DMC5 SE look?<br/>I mean Vergil just.....stabs himself and V pops out and asdkfajgk. My boy has returned!</p><p>So glad I can just buy the DLC and not have to buy an entire new console. Though if there is a limited edition of this....I might just have to buy the game without the console :P<br/>Love my limited edition bonuses, and I am a whore for those gorgeous steel cases and art books &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">His body hit he water with a huge splash, the water parting for his entry, before closing over his head to hide his rapidly sinking form. His arms were spread open, his eyes stinging as the water entered them, but still he did not struggle against his fate; indeed he welcomed it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Finally an end to the suffering and pain that had plagued his life. No longer would he have to endure the disappointment and fear that dogged his every step; no longer would he be compared so unfavourably to his younger brother. No, here and now, he was taking his life into his own hands and it was his will to end it all at this moment, in the serene peaceful depths of the ocean at night.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Moonlight fell upon the dark water, illuminating the soft waves his entry had made, marking the entry point for any who might have searched for him. Luckily, or unluckily, there was no such person searching, and so he continued to let his body drift further into the sea.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He held his breath for as long as he could, prolonging the sense of peace that had fallen over him, but eventually his body screamed for air, bubbles of oxygen escaping him, only for water to be drawn back into his starving lungs. He tried not to struggle, tried to let the water take him to his watery grave, but he could not fight the unconscious reactions of his body in it's desperate struggle to <em>survive</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And so he found himself writhing and struggling against the dark peace that had felt so warm and safe before; his mind now screaming that it was unsafe and that he must return to the surface to breathe in just one more breath of air. Spend just one more day upon the land to live, voice one last goodbye to the only person who he had left that meant anything at all to him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His legs kicked wildly, forcing his body towards the surface, even as he fought against the urge. His head grew light as his lungs cried out desperately for air to fill them so that they might purge the water seeping in, and his eyes closed as the sting grew too strong to resist. He didn't know if he was even moving his body in the right direction – didn't even know which way was the right direction. Was it up? Or was it down? Did he want to give in to his body's demands to live on another day? Or did he finally want to end this all like he had planned? Would fate even deny him the choice to end his suffering? Would she force him to continue living, with yet another failure to rest upon his shoulders along with the shame of having tried to end his life?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His head broke the surface of the water then, and with a wild gasp, Vergil hacked up all of the water filling his lungs, even as he raggedly attempted to draw oxygen into his body. His limbs felt weak and tired, shaking uncontrollably and barely able to keep him afloat; but the terror of letting himself fall back into the water once more, of feeling the water fill his lungs with sweet death as his body fought to survive, was enough incentive to get him moving. It could have taken hours, or even just a few minutes, he never could be sure as reality slipped from his grasp, before he finally made it to land once more.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With his feet firmly upon the wet sand of the beach, Vergil let himself collapse, tears of anger and frustration brimming in his eyes, scream of despair bubbling up in his throat.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He lived.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. I Think I've Broken Something</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Broken down | *Broken bones* | Broken trust</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">They say that love blooms like a flower in your heart, filling your chest with hope and the sweet fragrance of emotion, reciprocated and returned in kind with your beloved. It was a beautiful, if not poetic, way to put things; but of course it did not tell you of the dangers if your love was not returned.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">If your love was not returned, if it was one-sided or was not a romantic love, then those blooming flowers would fill your lungs, forcing their way up your throat and out of your mouth in a ever increasing amount until the stems and thorns tore up the soft flesh and left it bleeding and raw. It didn't tell you that the flowers would start to grow bigger and bigger, wilder until the roots and stems strangled your lungs until you could no longer fill them with air, until your throat was filled with petals and leaves choking you and leaving you gasping for a breath you were unable to draw.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">No, no one ever told you about that side of things, and those that suffered, suffered alone. They would either die choking on the physical manifestation of their unrequited feelings, or they found the money to pay for surgery to remove the flowers. Surgery was the better option of course, no one wanted to die because of their unrequited love (well there were some, but most would chose to live if given the choice), but as you would expect, there were consequences.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Some would have the flowers removed and that would be that. They would go on living their lives without the unrequited love hovering over their heads, slowly killing them; while others would forget the object of their affections entirely. And then there was the third case, where the love ran too deeply in their hearts that no amount of surgery could fix the issue, and the flowers would soon grow back once more.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V choked back a cough as he read the old tome, his hand clutching desperately at his aching chest, determined not to let a single petal escape from his lips. It had been over three months now since he had realised that strange heaviness filling his chest was more than just a summer cold; since the first (and only) petal fell from his mouth.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He knew who he had feelings for, and he knew why now of all times that this had started. His childhood friend, the one who had always held a special place within his heart, had come to him with shining eyes and an excited bounce to his step, telling him that he had asked out a girl in his class; and she had said yes. V had felt his heart grow heavy as he listened, even as he forced his mouth into a smile, congratulating him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That night the first petal had fallen from his lips, and with a cry of despair, V had thrown it in the fireplace and set it alight with a slightly manic stare. He watched the petal be consumed by the blaze almost instantly, and wished that it would burn the feelings from his chest also. He wondered if he could burn out the feeling within himself, or if he too would become one of those poor unfortunate souls that were left to live out their last moments alone, too afraid to confess their feelings. Not that that would help V, he knew. Nero obviously did not feel the same way about him than V did.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They described the growth in the chest like a garden, flowers and vines twisting and beautiful. V though, would not describe it as such; at least not his version of it. His chest felt like it was filled with weeds and thorns, growing rapidly to steal his breath from his lungs; the thorns tearing him up from the inside and bringing blood to fill his mouth with the taste of iron. His chest always ached, as though the thick branches of agonised feelings were trying to escape him, cracking his ribs and leaving him gasping as he struggled to wrap up the broken bones in secret.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Yet still, no matter how much physical pain his body was in, nothing hurt more than the fact that Nero could not even see that he was suffering. He could not see how his once milky white skin turned into a unhealthy ashen colour; could not see how he lost weight rapidly as his stomach filled with the flowers he forced himself to swallow rather than cough out. There were no comments on how the shadows beneath his eyes grew darker with each passing day, nor how his hair had started to fall out, the dark strands turning pale from stress.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He simply did not care enough to see, V supposed; too caught up with his new love, the one he held those secretly desired romantic feelings for. All he knew was, it wasn't him that Nero loved, wouldn't ever be him, couldn't be, and he would have to make a decision soon as to what he would do. Would he continue to suffer in silence? Let this cursed disease take his life from him as he wallowed in self pity? Or would he do something about it? But even if he wished to have the surgery, he had not the money to pay for it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Help came from an unexpected source, Nero's father having watched over V's steady decline with a heavy heart, knowing just what ailed him, his heart aching as his son unknowingly made his suffering worse. Vergil offered V the money for the surgery if he so wished to pursue that option, watching as the younger man tried to deny his affliction, even as his breath rasped and he struggled to pull air into his strangled lungs.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Please V, you are like a son to me, and I don't want to see you suffer any longer. If Nero does not realise your feelings, or cannot return them, then please have the surgery. Survive.” Vergil was practically begging, clutching V's frail hands within his own strong ones, though they too trembled.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I...how did you know?” V croaked out, covering his mouth immediately afterwards, throat bobbing wildly as he swallowed down the petals trying to escape.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I've had known you almost since your birth, have watched you grow beside Nero and seen the feelings that you tried to deny for years. I saw how your symptoms developed after Nero started dating that girl of his, and how each day that passes brings you closer and closer to death. Please V, I beg you, have the surgery.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">In the end, V had not been able to refuse the older man and had arranged to have the surgery. He hadn't told Nero what he was going to do, the other boy likely not even realising that he needed the life saving operation having never even noticed his decline in health, and so had made sure that he was away for a sports camp when he was scheduled to go in.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It would take hours to complete the operation, the amount of damage done to his body already, and the fact that his bones had been bruised and broken had raised a few eyebrows. There had only been one doctor willing to attempt the procedure upon him, the others stating that he had left it too late to attempt the surgery with any chance of success. But Dr Morrison had agreed, looking deeply into the young man's tired eyes and deciding that he deserved a second chance at life and love – if the surgery was successful. And if the surgery was not a success, then he deserved to know that at least he had done what he could; but his feelings were too deeply ingrained in his heart.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V went to the hospital on the day of his surgery alone, having turned down Vergil's offer to accompany him. He really didn't want any reminders of his unrequited love at this time, and Vergil's blue eyes were so similar to Nero's that V couldn't help but see his son in them sometimes. No, V needed to do this on his own. Alone, just like he had always been; would always be if Nero did not return his feelings. V knew deep in his heart, that he would never love anyone the same way that he loved Nero, surgery or no.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">As he felt his mind slowly succumb to the pull of the anaesthetic, V's last thought was that he hoped he did not forget Nero, even as he begged for his forgiveness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Breath In Breath Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Delayed drowning | Chemical pneumonia | *Oxygen mask*</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Continuation of 'I Think I've Broken Something'</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">Nero stared down at the pale, wan face of his best friend – his secret love. An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth, but leaving those dark shadows, darker than bruises, beneath his eyes on display. Nero adjusted the mask carefully so that it covered V's nose and mouth more fully, listening to his gasping breathes that caused his body to shudder with effort.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">His blue eyes trailed over V's frail form, cursing himself for not saying anything sooner as he watched the rapid decline of his health. He had been so secure in his thought that V would come to him with any problem he might have, hadn't even realised just how much he had been neglecting their friendship as he tried to distract himself with his girlfriend. Nero wasn't sure just when he had noticed V's health suffering, only that when he had come back from sports camp, V had been in the hospital.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero had raged at his father for not telling him immediately that V was admitted, had felt suspicion rise within him as Vergil's eyes had drifted away from his own when he asked why he was in there; but the older man had been tight lipped as to the reason, and V had refused to answer when Nero had finally been given permission to see him over a week later.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero had been taken aback at just how terrible his friend looked, the missing hair that had been bleached white with stress – something Nero had put down to a fashion choice, not his declining health – the way that his bones stuck out beneath the skin that looked stretched too tight, looking almost translucent in the bright hospital lights. But the thing that had stood out to him the most, had been the look of complete and utter despair that had filled V's eyes as he looked upon him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He hadn't known just what that look had meant, hadn't liked what it made him feel, how for the first time he had noticed the distance that had grown between them. And nothing he did or said in the weeks after that had helped to lessen it. V would brush him off when he asked to hang out, saying that he should spend time with his girlfriend instead; would make excuses to leave or simply get up without a word if the two of them ended up in the same room alone together. Nero never even had the chance to tell V that he had broken up with her, his worry over his friend's strange behaviour putting a wedge between them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero felt suspicion start to rise within him as he noticed how much time V had started to spend with his father; noted the way the older man would lay comforting hands upon his back as V shuddered helplessly under his hand. He saw how V would retreat to Vergil's study when Nero so desperately wanted to spend time with him, and how Vergil's eyes seemed to track V's every move. He didn't want to say that his father and his best friend were having an affair, but from where he stood, the signs were obvious.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero could feel a stab of jealousy in his chest as he saw them growing closer, eclipsed only by the worry he felt at V's still declining health. He had thought that whatever V had had done in the hospital would have made him better, but it seemed to not have any effect. He grew thinner with each passing day, and no matter what Nero tried to offer to him, V would not eat a single bite of food. At night, he could hear how V would cough and choke back moans of pain, hear him rush down the hall to throw up in the toilet, crouched before the porcelain bowl on his knees. He had tried to offer his support one night, only to be rebuffed and told to go away; he had not tried again, the hurt still fresh in his mind.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">His heart had stopped in his chest when he had stumbled across V's unconscious form one morning, his panicked cries waking his father from a dead sleep when he had called him. Nero insisted on riding along with V in the ambulance to the hospital, clutching his hand tightly within his own, even as the paramedics asked him to give them space. He had not been able to bare to part with V, feeling as though if he let go, V would disappear forever from his life.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The doctors had spoken of the V's failed surgery, and how he had left it too long to deal with the flowery disease. Nero had stared at them all in shock, not understanding what they were talking about, and having even less idea why V's supposed treatment had not worked. The next thing that Nero had felt had been rage; rage that his father had been toying with V's feelings, caused the younger man to fall in love with him when he did not return his feelings.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He had stood from his seat the moment his father had stepped into the room, throwing a punch at his face; satisfaction filling him as Vergil went sprawling into the hall. Orderlies had restrained Nero then as he had screamed at Vergil, struggling against their hold, desperate to hurt his father as much as V was hurting.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“How could you Father? How <em>could you?!</em>” Nero's voice cracked as he yelled, uncaring that he was causing a scene.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Enough Nero.” Vergil pulled himself to his feet slowly, waving off the help he was offered, hand pressed against the bright red mark upon his cheek.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You don't get to say that to me, not after what you have done to V!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Foolish child.” Vergil's voice was harsh enough to stop Nero's struggles, his eyes hard and full of something that Nero was almost terrified to name. “It was not I who caused V's health issues.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Then who?” Nero asked, body falling limp within his restraints.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It is you Nero, it's always been you.” Vergil's voice was hard, but filled with sadness and resignation. “That boy has been in love with you for years, and you never once noticed it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I...I....I never....I didn't know.....I....” Nero felt his legs collapse under him, sending him crashing towards the ground, his father rushing forwards to catch him and cradle him as he burst into tears.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Him. He had done this to V. He had caused his friend to deteriorate to the point that he had risked surgery that had ultimately failed. If only he had had the guts to tell him that he loved him, that he wanted to stay beside him and grow old with him. If only he hadn't bowed to peer pressure to ask out that girl, certain that V would never feel the same for him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil had helped Nero over towards a chair beside V's bed, before leaving the pair on their own, knowing that Nero needed time to come to terms with what he had learnt today. V might not be able to hear Nero, but perhaps if he managed to finally confess what was in his heart, V might hear those words and his ailment would start to heal. He just prayed that Nero wasn't too late.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I love you V,” Nero confessed, stroking that paper thin skin stretched across V's limp hand. “I always have, but I was too scared to tell you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The steady beeping of the monitors were Nero's only response, but even those were confirmation that V still lived.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I'm sorry that I caused you so much pain by dating that girl and I just want you to know that I never would have done that if I had known how you felt about me. I love you V, and I pray that you come back to me so that I can tell you again; every day of our lives.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero's lips pressed tightly against V's knuckles, eyes squeezed closed, even as the steady beeping faltered, finally falling into a steady monotone note. Silent, heartbroken tears fell from Nero's eyes, even as a cough forced it's way up his throat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Is Something Burning?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Branding* | Heat exhaustion | *Fire*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">Screams filled the air, along with the sour taint of fear, terror running thick through their veins as fire consumed their houses; smoke so dense that it choked the air from their lungs and forced them to the ground in desperation. Countless men, women and children were trampled by the feet and hooves of the invaders as they tried to seek reprieve from the smoke, their broken bodies left to lie in the smoking ashes of the village as the rest were clapped in chains and dragged from their homes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V watched as the only home that he had ever known went up in flames, their houses pillaged and burnt to the ground, their pets and livestock slaughtered with little regard to the sanctity of life nor the proper thanks that should be given for each sacrifice they endured so that the villagers might live another day.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The women and men were separated, the children either killed if they were deemed too young, or bartered over by the invaders, their cries ringing out as they were torn from their parents' desperate holds. V's group was rounded up and forced to march west, towards the town of Red Grave, where they would be sorted into groups depending on their potential use, and sold off at the slave markets either for gold or trade credits.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The males were herded into what amounted to little better than an animal pen when they arrived, a forge glowing ominously from the area beside them. A thin reedy man fed coal into the fire, working the bellows until the fire burned hotly. He was pushed aside as the smithy herself appeared, ropes of muscles rippling along her arms as she pulled several iron rods from the collection beside her, eyes darting down to consult a list she carried and thrusting them all into the fire end first.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When the tip glowed a fiery red, the first man was pulled from the pen and pinned face down upon a wooden block. A large heavy weight was placed down across his back to keep him trapped, his leg pulled out straight and held down by the blacksmith's apprentice. From seemingly out of nowhere, the leader who had brought them here appeared, face almost bored as he watched over the proceedings.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“The mines,” he pronounced in a monotone voice, not a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes as he watched the mark of a mine worker be seared upon the struggling male's tight, branding him like he was little more than livestock.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The crying man was pulled from the block as soon as the brand had been laid, a bucket of salted water thrown upon the fresh wound and then he was dragged away towards the pens for the slaves slated for sale to work in the mines.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">This process repeated time and time again, the stench of burning flesh filling the air along with the screams and cries of agony; the tang of salted water mixing with the tears that flowed from their swollen eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V watched in terrified silence as the pen emptied, until there were only five of them remaining. He noticed with a heavy heart that those that remained were considered the most handsome of those taken, their bodies leanly muscled, faces smooth and unmarred by wrinkles or blemishes. The looks that they were receiving from those still present, the leers and lecherous gazes that looked their bodies over head to toe, gave a very strong indication to just what use they had been marked down for, and V could feel his stomach churn.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When it was his turn, V's arm was grasped in an unbreakable hold as he was pulled from the pen, his wide green eyes meeting those of the remaining men of his village in desperation. His father reached out towards him, perhaps to pull him back or maybe even just an unconscious reaction to seeing his son suffer, but he was knocked back harshly; the guard getting yelled at to not damage the merchandise.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V felt himself pushed face down upon the wooden block, air rushing out of his lungs as the weight was placed heavily upon his back. He kicked out in terror as his right leg was grasped, eyes rolling in his head as he saw the red hot branding iron pulled from the blazing forge. With a muffled curse the assistant clamped his leg down between his arm and body, holding it still as the Smith brought the iron down upon V's thigh.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V screamed as he felt his skin flare with intense heat, his flesh melting under the iron and eating away at anything it touched. His throat felt raw and bloody as he screamed and writhed in agony upon the block. His mind was so hazed with pain that he didn't even feel when the burning stopped, or when the weight was lifted from his back. He stumbled as he was pulled to his feet, limping forwards dazedly, only for a weak moan of pain to escape him as the salted water was thrown over his brand.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The slow shuffle towards his new pen was agony, and V lost track of time as his mind tried to deal with what had just happened, the soft cries of others beside him filling his head with white noise. It could have been hours later when he finally came back to himself, his eyes falling upon the brand upon his leg – black charred skin, surrounded by angry red lines – and was unsurprised at what he could make out past the swelling. Two flowers intertwined.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The mark of a pleasure slave.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Into The Unknown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Possession* | Magical healing | Science gone wrong</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">He had thought that he had escaped; thought that he had finally managed to break free from the chains that had bound him body and soul to the monster that professed to own him. He had paid for his freedom in blood, sweat and tears; the screams of those he had cut down on his path to freedom haunting both his waking and sleeping mind.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But it had been worth it, he had thought to himself – lying to himself, he wasn't sure if the sacrifices he had had to make had been worth it – for that chance to live again, free from the shackles that had weighted his every step, from the time he had unwillingly became the pawn of his former master.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He revelled in his new found freedom, taking joy in the simplest of things; from lying in bed until late in the morning after staying up late to watch the stars shine brightly in the night sky, to savouring the taste of the food upon his tongue, eyes closed in appreciation.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Now that he was free from the influence of Mundus, Vergil started to wonder if he might be able to reunite with his brother, his twin, the missing half he had longed to stand beside but was unable to due to Mundus' influence. If Mundus had known where Dante was, if Vergil had inadvertently given away his location, then he would not have hesitated to take advantage of that information. They had always been a package deal in their youth; together they had been stronger than any enemy that opposed them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But Mundus had filled Vergil's head with lies, whispering in his ear that Dante had thought him to be weak, soft, <em>too human</em>. He had promised Vergil to give him that strength, to make him stronger even than when they had combined their power. And blinded by his pride, his youth and his stupidity, Vergil had accepted his offer. He hadn't realised at the time just what the cost would be, that his very soul would be tainted with the stain of Mundus' insidious touch. He hadn't realised that he would tear himself from the very person he had been trying to protect, that Dante would be left alone as he fell into the abyss of ruin.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Now, he could seek out his brother; apologise for his foolishness and hold him close as he should have done before. He could fix what he had broken, even as he himself was still broken inside – would always be broken now, forever more; the cost of his freedom being the death of his very soul – and hope that Dante accepted him back. He would, Vergil knew he would; knew that Dante had always been the better man of the pair, never letting Vergil's lust for power taint his own mind.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil just wanted to go home.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It had taken weeks to make his way to Red Grave and locate the building he had been told housed Dante. His hands trembled as he raised his fist to knock upon the weather beaten door, his heart pounding in his chest crazily, fear and hope warring within his mind. The wooden door opened with a creak after he was bid to enter, and then there was naught but the open space of the room between Vergil and that which he had lost in his folly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">A smile broke over his face as he watched Dante's eyes widen in shock, his feet moving forwards on their own to bring him closer.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Dante.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">No...no wait, that was not his voice Vergil realised; his panic rising as he realised that his body was now moving on it's own.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“V..Verg?” Dante's voice shook with shock, even as he stepped out from behind his desk, seemingly unaware of the war that waged on in his brother's body.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I have been looking for you...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Vergil? No...no wait, I know that voice.” Dante stepped back, hands moving to draw his weapon, eyeing the other man warily and hissing out that hated name. The name of the one who took his brother from him, who broke them both. “Mundus.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Poor little Vergil didn't even realise that he never managed to break the chains of ownership when he carved his own soul from his body, in his attempt to escape me. He never knew that all he did was create a perfect place for me to hide within him, waiting for that moment when he gave into his humanity, seeking out the one person he had managed to hide from me for all those years.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Mundus stepped closer, the space between Dante and himself shrinking alarmingly, though Dante could not find it within himself to cut down this monster; not when he wore his brother's face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“He had led me straight to you and there is nothing that he can do to stop me now, his mind and body under my control, powerless to resist me.” Mundus reached out Vergil's hand, wrapping those slim, calloused fingers around Dante's throat; tightening painfully, but not fatally. “I've always wanted a matched set.....Together you will be the perfect toys for my collection.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Dante struggled helplessly against the hold, blue eyes staring into cold, emotionless orbs; begging Vergil to regain control over his body. As darkness started to overtake his vision, Dante could have sworn he saw Vergil break free from Mundus' possession for just a moment – terror and despair painted across his face, before it disappeared once more.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sleep now Dante, when you wake everything will be as it should be.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Forced to beg | *Hallucinations* | Shoot the hostage</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">It had been over ten years since Dante had last seen his brother on that fateful day, when their home had been invaded and burnt to the ground. Vergil had disappeared when their mother had frantically left to search for him, calling out his name desperately in a bid to find him and hide him from the horde.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The vision of his mothers' tearful face as she closed the closet doors upon his terrified form had been the last he had seen of her, her screams as the demons tore her apart as she cried out for his brother filling his ears for years to come.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">No matter how long or how far he had searched, not a single trace of Vergil could ever be found; and Dante had long resigned himself to the fact that he too had been consumed by the demons on that day. So now, to believe the sight that stood before him, to accept that his brother had survived and returned to him, it felt like a dream come true.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It didn't matter to Dante that no one else seemed to be able to see Vergil; <em>'good'</em> his mind supplied, that just meant he didn't have to share his attention with anybody else. It didn't matter that sometimes Vergil would disappear for days or weeks at a time; he would always return just when Dante needed him. Whether it be to shout out a warning when an enemy drew too close, or when Dante's attention wavered; or when he would step in to help cut through the hordes of demons that would surround Dante, threatening to overwhelm him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">All of this just proved that Vergil cared for him, that he would always be beside him in his time of need, and his heart grew warm at the thought. He'd never lost that tiny spark of hope, buried deeply within his heart, that Vergil was somewhere out there; fighting just as desperately to return to his side, as Dante was to reunite with his twin.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Years later, his brother by his side, Dante stared in shock as yet another Vergil stood before him, face pulled into a sneer as he spat vitriol at him. He turned his head to the side to stare numbly at the Vergil who stood beside him, finally taking in his wavering form; the slight transparency of his flesh – the heartbroken, apologetic look upon his young face. A face that Dante only now realised had not changed a single bit since he had first come to him, even as his own had aged, laugh lines growing beside his mouth, crow's feet at his eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But still he did not want to believe what his eyes told him was the truth. He wanted to believe that the man who stood before him was an imposter, because surely Vergil did not look like that now, surely he had not changed that much in the years since they had stood beside one another. The....the vision, <em>no the man</em>, that stood beside him was the real Vergil Dante decided, denial coating his lungs thickly, filling his mouth with the sweet lies that he wanted to accept as truth. But even then, Dante knew the truth that he denied. Knew that the man who had stood at his side for all of those years had been naught but an hallucination, a figment of his imagination.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Someone that he had been so desperate to see just once more, that his mind had conjured up Vergil's likeness to stay by his side.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But here stood the real Vergil, one that he could touch; could embrace in his arms and hold onto tightly. A Vergil who stepped back as he tried to bring him into his arms, confusion and repulsion clear upon his face as he retreated.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Dante did not know what to think. Did he accept that this was his brother who stood before him, spouting words of power and conquest? Or did he turn away from this stranger, and stay by the side of the one who had been with him over the last years? Did he accept the hallucination over reality? Which would bring him more joy? This man who seemed to hate his very being? Or this vision who returned his brotherly affection with not a hint of hesitation?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Closing his eyes, unable to watch Vergil's disappearance, Dante turned away and left his brother behind; his steps faltering as his once arrogant voice stuttered in confusion. Hardening his heart against the plea hidden within his threats, Dante left the other behind him, not a single glance thrown his way.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">With Vergil by his side, Dante didn't need any other to replace him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. I Did Not See That Coming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blackmail | *Dirty secret* | Wrongfully Accused</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ah, had a pretty terrible night last night with my partner ending up in the hospital, but I've managed to get this out there.<br/>So please forgive me if I've missed any mistakes; I'll try to read over it again soon and fix any up.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">“Ha...aaaaaaah!” V grunted as the man above him grunted as he released inside of him, breath leaving him in a rush as he collapsed upon his chest.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The feel of sticky, feverishly hot skin pressing against his own made his stomach churn unpleasantly, and he swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up his throat. Guilt clawed at his chest harshly, as the evidence of his own pleasure painted his stomach and chest. It didn't matter though, he couldn't let it matter; V needed this to survive.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Two minutes he decided, he would give the other man two minutes before he asked him to pull out of him. Thankfully V didn't need to ask the man to get off, as not a moment later he lifted himself up, pulling out slowly and disposing on the used condom. Less than five minutes later, he had dressed himself and left the small stack of notes upon the beside table, sending a wink and offer for another round next time towards V before letting himself out.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Wasting not a moment more, V threw himself from the bed, tearing the sheets off and throwing them into the washing machine. The cash he placed into his money pouch, eyes tracing over the other notes inside and deciding that a trip to the bank was in order. After remaking the bed and throwing open the window, V lit a couple of scented candles to cover the scent of sex that still lingered in the air and went to shower.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He turned the heat up until it was nearly scalding, scrubbing the feel of another on his skin away. V missed the sound of the front door opening, not realising that Nero had returned until a warm, naked body pressed up against his back. Nero yelped as the scalding water touched his skin, grumbling and scolding V lightly as he adjusted the temperature to something more reasonable. Nero leaned in to steal a kiss from V's lips, not noticing the slightly stiff way his boyfriend held himself.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Missed you V,” Nero murmured between kisses, lips moving towards his neck, nipping at the skin then and leaving little bites.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I..I missed you too Nero.” V responded, heart thudding painfully within his chest.</p>
<p class="western"><br/>Nero couldn't know; he could never find out his dirty, shameful secret, or surely he would leave V. And V loved Nero too much for that to happen. It would destroy him if Nero ever left, but V didn't know what else to do. They needed the money, and he would be damned if Nero had to go crawling back to his bigot of a father, begging for cash after he had thrown him out on his ass when he discovered he was dating a man. Nero didn't realise that even with their combined incomes, they barely made enough money to cover the rent, and that didn't even begin to factor in other things like bills or food that needed to be paid for also.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">And so V had turned to prostitution. It had been shockingly easy to slip back into his old ways, his life on the streets turning tricks, coming back to him as though he had never left in the first place. Nero had saved him back then, taking him in and giving him a place to stay so that he could clean himself up; but now it was V's turn to save Nero.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What did you get up to today? It was your day off right?” Nero nuzzled into V's neck, hands already roaming over his slick skin.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, just a little bit of this and that,” V tried to reply calmly. In his mind he replayed the scenes of three separate men that had come into their home to have sex with him, their heaving sweaty bodies taking pleasure within his own; the body that only Nero should have had the right to touch in that way. Guilt ate away at him. “I did a load of washing too.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, I noticed the bed had been stripped.” Nero responded with a slight chuckle. “You and your clean sheet fetish.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hmm.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, looks like you did something else too while I was gone,” Nero whispered hotly into V's ear, fingers slipping into his still loose entrance, and V felt his heart stumble to a halt. “Did you miss me that much huh?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's face flushed in shame as Nero pressed into him, the other man mistaking his reaction as embarrassment. “I was thinking about coming home to you all day too V.” And without further hesitation, Nero pushed into him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Disgust and pleasure warred within V's mind as his lover brought his body to the edge of ecstasy, following him over the edge and filling him with the warmth of his release. How could he possibly let Nero soil himself on such a dirty body like his own? How could V continue to let him make love to him like this, when he took so many others into his body in secret?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Tears started to fall from his eyes, Nero beginning to panic when he noticed them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I'm sorry V! I thought you were well prepared enough, I didn't mean to hurt you!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The shower was soon shut off and Nero wrapped V up in one of their big fluffy towels, patting him down gently, all the while V sobbed in his arms.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I'm so sorry Nero, please forgive me. Don't leave me please, I beg you don't let me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Confused, Nero tried to comfort V, not understanding half of the words that kept spilling from his lips. Why would V want Nero to forgive him and what had he done to make V think that he would leave him? Quickly remaking the bed and blowing out the still burning candles, Nero laid them both down upon the clean sheets, face twisting up in confusion at the faint scent of a strange cologne. Huh, maybe V had tried something new and decided he didn't like it? They fell asleep curled around each other, V clutching Nero tightly in his hold.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero woke early the next morning, taking in the dark bags that had settled beneath V's eyes as he brushed a few strands of hair from his face. He decided to let his partner sleep in, instead hurrying to get ready for work, leaving a loving note for V to find when he woke. Tugging uncomfortably at the sleeves of his servers shirt, Nero stumbled to a halt when he arrived at his work and was met with a confused stare from his boss.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nero? What are you doing here today?” Trish asked him with her brow raised. “I thought I gave you the day off to spend with V. It is your anniversary after all isn't it?” She winked at Nero when he flushed in embarrassment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Of course, how stupid of him to have forgotten. It was just with everything that had gone on last night with V's breakdown, it had slipped Nero's mind, and he had fallen back on routine.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Haha, well if that's the case, I'm out of here then! See you in a few Trish!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Bye Nero, don't get up to too much mischief now? I'm sure V would like to be able to walk still when you're done with him.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Laughing, Nero headed back to their home, a bounce in his step at the thought of spending the day with V. He stopped briefly at the store to pick up some chocolates that V liked, and a cheap bottle of wine that they could share. If he was lucky, V might even agree to sharing a bath together as they drank the wine.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">His good mood came to an abrupt halt when he unlocked the door to their house, the sound of another male making his brows furrow. He hadn't known that V had invited someone over. Following the sound of voices, Nero felt dread start to pool in his stomach as the voices started sounding less and less like speaking, and more and more like moaning.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The wine bottle fell from his suddenly nerveless fingers, shattering upon the ground, when he opened up the bedroom door; his worst nightmare brought to stunning life before his eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V knelt upon the bed, head turned on the pillows staring slightlessly towards the door, a stranger pounding into him from behind, hands gripping at his hips harshly as he thrust. V's blank eyes finally managed to register Nero's frozen form, terror bleeding into the green depths as their eyes met and held.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hey buddy, my time's not up yet, so why don't you get lost yeah?” The stranger, oblivious to the tension that filled the air, growled at Nero. And Nero, numb with shock did nothing but nod his head, turning on his heel and leaving his heart behind, deaf to V's cries of his name; his mind twisting the sound of his name, to become cries of ecstasy as he was fucked by that other man instead.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As the front door closed behind him, Nero felt his tears start to fall.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Panic! At The Disco</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Panic attacks* | Phobias | Paranoia</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Continuation of Chapter 17 - I Did Not See That Coming</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">The moment the door closed behind Nero, V felt bile rise up his throat and he shoved the man still hard inside of him away.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hey, we're not done here!” V cared not for the anger and frustration that was directed at him, as he stumbled from room, falling to his knees before the toilet.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Dry retching over the bowl, V could vaguely hear the sounds of the other man angrily throwing his clothes back on before he stormed into the bathroom, leaning against the door frame as he sneered down at V's huddled form.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Don't think that you're going to get paid today, and you'd better believe I'll be letting the other knows of this too.” He stormed forwards, gripping V's chin harshly between his uncaring fingers. “Did you really think that he would never find out? Ha, as if a whore like you deserves to be happy.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's head rang with his mocking words, each like another knife cutting into the delicate flesh of the happiness he had tried to build for himself. Worse yet, he could not find it in himself to deny any of the things thrown at him, not even the man's parting shot. “I'll see you when you come crawling back after he leaves you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Because if Nero left him, V knew he would fall back into that lifestyle; whoring himself out to the highest bidder, just so that he could earn enough money to pay for his next fix. The life he had built for himself here would mean nothing if Nero were not sharing it with him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Finally dragging himself out of the bathroom, V found himself stumbling back towards the bedroom, the sight of the rumpled sheets sending him to his knees. As though to add insult to injury, the man had left his used condom atop of the sheets, the sight of which made V's stomach churn. Shivers wracked his lean body, his arms creeping up to wrap themselves around himself, even as sweat dotted his forehead.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">His heart pounded in his chest rapidly, even as he sadly wondered why it even bothered to keep him alive. A trembling fist rose up to clutch uselessly at his aching chest, his eyes widening in realisation at what was happening to him.</p>
<p class="western"><br/>He was having a panic attack. Nothing new for him sadly; he'd experienced plenty of them as he came out of his drug addicted state, his mind having to deal with the things that the drugs had cushioned him from. But this time was different. This time Nero wasn't here to talk him down from his spiralling thoughts, wasn't here to tell him to breathe and hold him so he didn't shake apart.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's head grew light as his breaths started coming faster and faster, until he was gasping in another breath before he had even finished the last, body starting to tip sideways as he lost his balance. He landed face first into the dirtied sheets, a scream tearing itself from his throat. Maybe if he tore the sheets from the bed and strangled himself with them that would atone for his sins. Perhaps then Nero might forgive him, even if he were not alive to receive his forgiveness. Or maybe Nero would be better off not forgiving V at all, maybe his life would be better if V had never entered it in the first place.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He wouldn't have fought with his father if it hadn't been for V; Nero would never have been kicked out of his home, without the financial support he had always had backing him up. Nero would not be tainted with V's filthy presence if he left; and even if it would feel as though he were dying slowly inside every moment he was apart from him, V knew he would endure it if it meant Nero did not have to suffer any more.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">All V had done was bring suffering to Nero's life; he was a curse upon his life, and he needed to be removed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Body shaking and unwilling to cooperate, V struggled to do what he needed to, each moment he remained here, another that Nero might return before he could leave. In the end, V gathered what little strength he had remaining in his body, swallowing down the constant urge to scream and cry and rage, his fear of stepping out of that door and back into the unknown nearly swallowing him whole. In the end though, he gathered the last of his resolve, and walked through the door.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The door clicked shut behind his wavering form, and with tightly closed eyes, V stepped forwards back into hell.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero unlocked the door to their home almost fearfully, ears straining for the sounds of more than one person present, a worried frown marring his face when he could not detect anyone at all. He stepped cautiously into the bedroom, flicking on the light, his heart dropping in his chest at the sight before him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The wardrobe and drawers had all been opened and emptied, anything that had been V's stripped from the room; the other man clearly having fled when Nero had left to cool his head. The bed had been stripped of the soiled sheets, and from the faint scent of smoke still lingering from the bathroom, burned. Good Nero thought viciously, not wanted to think about lying upon the same sheets that another had taken his lover upon.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Lying in the middle of the bed were three things at crushed Nero's heart – obliterated what little was left after witnessing V's betrayal – and bringing tears to his eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The first was V's house key. The little silver piece of metal lying innocently upon the mattress instead of upon the other man's key chain, the visible proof that V did not intend to return home to Nero.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The second was a huge bundle of cash, more than Nero had seen since before his old man had kicked him out, and more than enough for them to pay their rent and bills for the next couple of months. What....where did that money come from? Had V been trying in his own way to ease their financial issues? Why had he thought that Nero would want him to do that to himself? Surely he knew that Nero would rather live on the streets together than have V do that for them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The last was thing resting upon the bed was what sparked anger within his chest; simply a note with two words written upon the pristine surface. Just <em>'I'm sorry'</em>. That was all. No explanation, no saying where he was or if he would return, nothing. Gripping the note tightly, Nero crumpled it tightly in his fist, the ache in his chest flaring angrily.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">For the second time that day, Nero found himself screaming himself hoarse, tears drenching his cheeks and not a single trace of V to be found.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Broken Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Grief | Mourning Loved One | *Survivor's Guilt*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western"><em>'It was meant to be me'</em> V thought hysterically to himself, mind still whirling in the aftermath. '<em>It was meant to be me, not Nero, never Nero!'</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero his brother, who was strong and protective and everything that V wasn't; Nero that their father adored, even as he could barely look at V without hatred shining in his eyes, blaming him for his wife's death during his birth.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But now Nero had stepped before V, had accepted the consequences of his actions, even as he took the blow that was meant for the slighter male; the echoing sound of gunfire drowning out V's screams as Nero fell to his knees. Blood pouring from the holes in his chest, more leaking from his mouth as his lungs seized up as they desperately tried to draw oxygen into themselves, even as he drowned in his own blood.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V rushed to his side, fumbling to catch him as his body finally started to topple over, his hands staining red with blood as pressed against the wounds in a futile attempt to stem to flow of blood. The sound of tyres on gravel outside vaguely caught his attention, but it was the stern, booming voice of his father that jerked V's attention away from Nero's pained face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What is going on here?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V shrank away from the icy coldness of Vergil's voice, curling into himself and pulling Nero closer as that harsh, unforgiving gaze fell upon him; dread pooling in his stomach as Vergil took in the state of his eldest son.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What have you done?” Vergil hissed, striding forwards to rip Nero from V's trembling hold. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? FIRST YOU KILL MY WIFE, AND NOW YOU KILL MY SON?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V remained knelt upon the ground, eyes staring upon the pools of Nero's blood that slowly grew, unable to meet the accusing stare he knew he was receiving. It should hurt, he thought almost absently, that Vergil did not seem to consider V his son; that Vergil seemed to lay the blame of his wife's untimely death upon his frail shoulders.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It was supposed to be me.” Whisper thin and wavering, V's voice seemed to enrage Vergil further.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Damn right it should have been you! You worthless piece of shit. I don't know why Nero wasted all of his time with you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Don't listen to him V.....” V's head whipped up at the sound of Nero's voice, faint as it was. “It's a big brother's job to protect their siblings isn't it? And I don't regret saving your life here. Don't blame yourself........it's....it's not....your......fault.....”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero's eyes fluttered closed and his body shuddered, once, twice, a third time, before falling still. Vergil's howls filled the room, even as the gang that had attacked Nero and V were taken into custody. An ambulance had arrived at some point, V realised, Nero's body being taken from Vergil's reluctant hold and strapped down to the gurney. It was pointless, they all knew, but that didn't stop them from at least attempting to revive Nero. Hope rose in V's chest as Nero's body jolted when he was shocked by the paddles, only to shatter as finally the paramedics shook their heads, calling his time of death.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">12.02am on October 19<sup>th</sup>. V's 18<sup>th</sup> birthday.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Happy birthday V.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V wasn't sure how or even why he ended up back home, his feet taking him unconsciously towards Nero's bedroom. The room that he would never return to now. Tears in his eyes, V collapsed upon the rumpled bedsheets, pulling them up and around himself in a pale imitation of the tight hold Nero used to use when Vergil would yell and scream at V for simply existing. Sobs tore from his throat as he realised that his brother would now never have the chance to buy that bike he had been saving up for, never tease V  about his lack of love life; nose buried too deeply in the world to books to be interested – just like their mother had been.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He fell asleep on Nero's bed, his tears drying on his cheeks and it was only the sound of stomping footsteps that tore him from his nightmare of seeing Nero got shot over and over again. Vergil threw open the door to Nero's room and saw V lying upon his bed, fury painting his face a deep crimson. Storming forwards, he ripped V off of the bed by his hair, the pained whimpers escaping the boy doing nothing but fuelling his ire. V was forced to his knees before the older man, watery green eyes pinned by blazing blue, so similar to Nero's it made him ache.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Why couldn't it have been you? Why did you take my son from me?” Suppressed emotion choked Vergil's words, his fist tightening it's hold within V's hair angrily. “You never should have been born. Since the moment of your birth, you have been nothing but a curse to this family.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I'm sorry father, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for Nero to get hurt, he wasn't supposed to have been there.” More tears fell from V's eyes as he sobbed out apology after apology.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I am no father of yours, and you are no son of mine!” Vergil roared, throwing V away from him, uncaring when his head knocked harshly against Nero's tallboy. “You have until tomorrow to be out of this house, or you will be forcefully removed. Do not show your face before me again, lest I take your life as you took that of my wife and only son.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Dizzily, V pulled himself to his feet before fleeing towards his own room. As soon as the door closed behind him, V screamed into his hands.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">'<em>Why Nero why? Why did you leave me here alone with him? Why did you do that? Why me Nero? I'm worthless, less than nothing! No one loves or cares for me like you did; and father.....father he.....I don't.....I can't.......Please God why?'</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V hated himself more in that moment than he ever had in his entire life. More than when his father would stare at him as a child, the burning hatred that simmered in that cold blue gaze making his eyes drop and his skin crawl. He hated himself more than when in a fit of anger, Vergil had screamed at a five year old V that he had killed his mother by being born; how his difficult birth had been too great a strain on her fragile body and she had suffered a heart attack. More than when he realised that he wasn't worthy of his father's love, because he was a killer; and that meant that he shouldn't grow close to others either, lest he inflict his curse upon them too.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero had told him that that was nonsense, that it hadn't been V's fault that their mother had died, even as he suffered because of her loss also. He had all but forced V to accept their bond as brothers, protecting V from their father whenever he could, and soothing his hurts when he couldn't.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But Nero had lied. V was a curse and he shouldn't have let Nero grow so close to him; look what had happened after all. Nero was dead, and it was V's fault.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero who had been so full of life and promise had given up his life for a worthless curse bringer like V. Why? Why did he do that? How did he expect V to keep on living now? Gods he just wanted to die, to lie down and never rise again; let the world forget his name and fade away. But Nero wouldn't want that, that isn't what Nero had given his life for and so V would keep on living so that his sacrifice would not be in vain.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Packing his things swiftly, V made sure to carefully tuck anything Nero had given to him inside the bags, sneaking over to Nero's room to take when he could with him. Surely Vergil would beat him black and blue for stealing Nero's belongings if he caught him, but for V, it was worth the risk just to have something of Nero's to carry with him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When he was done, V stared at the bare room that he once called his own, before he turned and headed towards the door. He paused before he exited the house for the last time, voice wavering as he called out a final farewell; though whether it was directed towards his indifferent father, or the spectre of Nero that he held in his mind, V wasn't sure.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I'm going now. Farewell.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Get out!” Vergil growled, eyes not once turning away from the TV before him. “And don't come back worthless scum.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The words stabbed at V's exposed heart like knives, soothed only by the whisper he felt brush against his skin, a small smile tilting his lips as he stepped through the door, never looking back once.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“<em>Goodbye brother. Live well for the both of us!”</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Toto, I Have A Feeling We're Not In Kansas Anymore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lost | Field Medicine | *Medieval*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">He was the son of a farmer who had worked tirelessly to earn his way to knighthood, the youngest and most talented in Lord Fortuna's cavalry. Though not old enough, nor experienced enough to be given a position of authority, it was obvious to all who could see, that Nero held a very high place in the Lord's esteem.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was on the day that he was knighted that Nero first laid eyes upon the Lord's son, standing tall and regal behind his father, fathomless green eyes staring with interest towards Nero – decked out in his shining new armour, draped in the colours of his master – kneeling upon the carpeted floor.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero might have spoken the words flawlessly to pledge his allegiance to Lord Fortuna, but not once did his eyes leave the steady stare of his son. As the ceremony ended and the nobles and knights alike mixed together, the wine and mead flowing freely in celebration; Nero slipped from the room silently, shadowing the graceful footsteps of the retreating young noble. He caught up to him in a dimly lit hall, deserted but for the two of them, the other man seeming to be unsurprised by his follower. In fact it almost seemed as though he were waiting for Nero to catch up to him, his steps resuming when Nero drew close.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They ended up standing out on a private balcony, far removed from the festivities that they could hear going on far below them. The intriguing young man rested his hands against the cold stone railing, head tilted back to study the twilit sky. Nero paused as he passed through the doorway, hesitating to step forwards now to stand beside him. What had he been thinking? Following the son of his Lord like that? He may have just been knighted, but that did not give Nero the right to take such liberties.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Worry not Sir Nero, your presence is not unwelcome.” Nero jolted as the other man finally broke the silence, his voice washing over him like smoke and finest whisky, slipping into his lungs and his head and making him dizzy. “Come, join me at the railing.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero stepped forwards slowly, his armour clanking quietly as he leant beside the smaller male, head turned curiously towards him. “I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage My Lord,” Nero spoke with a slightly teasing tone, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know my name, but I'm afraid that I do not know yours.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero cocked a brow in question as the other man grimaced at the title, watching the slight frown that pulled the corners of his mouth downwards.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I would rather have no name at all, than to be called My Lord by you Sir Nero. No, I would much prefer it if you would simply call me V.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“If I am to call you nothing more than V, then I insist that you also drop the title and call me Nero.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero sucked in a short, sharp breath as V turned towards him then, a beautiful smile spread across his face; lighting up his already handsome features and making him appear ethereal.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“If that is what you wish, then so be it.” V responded lightly, uncharacteristically reaching out to touch Nero's arm. “Well met Nero, I look forward to seeing what a knight of your calibre can do.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well met V,” responded Nero in a daze, the place V had touched burning hotly as though the sun itself had kissed his skin.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It wasn't just their meeting that was unusual, but their entire friendship. It was unheard of for one of V's station to spend any amount of time with one of lower class, let alone to befriend them. The Lord Urizen Fortuna had not been pleased when he had found out of the time his son and most promising knight wasted upon one another, but he had relented when he took note that neither of their work had faltered nor been put aside.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With Urizen's, not blessing but more akin to acceptance, of their friendship, the other nobles and knights could not say or do anything about the situation.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They watched jealously as the pair grew from strangers to friends, to best friends; neither having much chance to socialise with many others of their own age group before. It was on the night of another celebration when things between them changed once more, the wine and mead that they had imbibed going to their heads and lowering their inhibitions.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Stumbling after the giggling V as he danced through the garden maze, Nero thought to himself that the other looked like a faery or a sprite, touched by the light of the moon. Perhaps if Nero were to close his eyes or turn away, V might just disappear from his sight, a beautiful dream that had never really existed in the first place. Fearful that his drunken musings might just prove to be true, Nero reached out to grasp a hold of V's arm, tugging the slighter male into his arms and against his chest.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V stared up at Nero in shock, hands pressed lightly against his chest, trapped between their bodies. Nero stared down into those wide green eyes, face leaning down slightly as though drawn by an invisible force. He swallowed the shocked gasp V let out, lips pressing lightly against V's petal soft lips, tongue darting out to draw the taste of the other into his own mouth. Alcohol or stupidity had him leaning in further to deepen the kiss, his arms tightening their hold around V's body.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero wasn't sure just what he had been expecting from his actions, perhaps V would push him away and tell him to never speak to him again, or maybe he would not speak to Nero at all but throw a punch at his face. Whatever reaction he had expected, V kissing him back was not it. Not when V had been locked up in meetings with potential marriage candidates for the last several weeks as Nero prepared for the traditional tourney for each noble to show their might to the heir of the land, eager for him to chose their daughter to marry to bring honour and status to their name.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Whether it was the alcohol or simply their lust overriding their minds, they found themselves tangled together in the sheets of V's luxurious bed that night; their moans and cries of pleasure filling the air, their heated breaths and pounding hearts in sync with one another.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That should have been their only moment of madness, for surely the consequences of continuing such a sinful act against the Gods would result in punishment. But once they had tasted that forbidden fruit, once they had felt that heat and pleasure of another's touch, neither man could stop themselves from seeking it out again and again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They thought that they were being careful in their trysts, waiting for the last watch to pass by before sneaking out, Nero waking before the first rooster crow to sneak back into the barracks. They held themselves back from touching one another when they were in public, though neither could deny themselves the subtle touch of skin against skin as they passed each other.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They did not notice the way their eyes tracked the movement of the other, how much longing and lust each gaze held. They did not see the shadows that dogged their steps when Nero pushed V up against the wall in the stables, hand sneaking up beneath his quilted vest, growling angrily as it was stopped by V's restraining hand. Nor did they notice that jealous, angry eyes followed their movements, and watched them, plotting and planning to destroy their happiness.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They did not see that same shadow approach the Lord and tell him of their knowledge; didn't see his face twist in disgust as he heard. The plans to sabotage the tournament never reached their ears, their bodies tangled up together beneath the canopy of drapes surrounding V's bed. They should have been more careful, but their hearts and minds were too full of the other to think of such things.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The morning of the tournament dawned bright and clear. Nero had already left his bed, leaving V to curl into the space he had left behind, a secret smile touching his rosy lips. His manservant entered the room after a cursory knock upon the door, helping V to dress as befitting the heir of Lord Fortuna, smoothing down the belted tunic with it's woven strands of gold stitched in the crest of their house. V stepped into his knee high boots, patiently waiting as they were laced tightly and wiped over, smiling at the other in thanks as he exited his room.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His father awaited him in the dining room, and something about the pleased smirk upon his face disturbed V, especially when combined with the determined efforts of one of the court ladies to gain his attention. Smiling politely at the woman as she simpered at him, V's attention was soon caught by the knights passing by in preparation. So entranced was he by the sight of Nero in his shining armour, V missed the sneers upon both the woman and his father's faces, the vicious glee that shone in their eyes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">As tradition dictated, V was to sit beside his father in the front of each area that they were to view, thus placing him in prime position to decide upon the knight's ability to represent their Lords and Masters. It was a tedious duty to watch countless knights and nobles battle it out for the right to make an offer for V's hand, and it was only as it came time for the joust that V felt excitement course through his veins. Nero was to be one of five representatives of Fortuna in the joust, the young man boasting nearly perfect scores in each of his bouts.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V eagerly watched as Nero stepped into the arena, leading his great warhorse beside him; his squire following along a few steps behind carrying his lance. Unease started to settle in V's chest when he took in the wide, terrified eyes of the squire; watched how his eyes darted towards V and then his father, seeming to pale even further. Movement from the corner of his eyes drew his attention, and V turned just in time to see the satisfied smirk that painted his father's face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nero....” V whispered, watching as both Nero and his opponent mounted their horses. As though he were able to hear V's voice, Nero turned towards the viewing area, dipping his head respectfully, before saluting the other combatant. Showing not a shred of courtesy, the other knight did not return the salute, nor did he offer respect to the Lord and his heir.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The arena fell silent as they waited with baited breaths for the flag to fall, each knight sitting tensely upon their steed as they gripped their lances tightly in their hand. Finally the signal was given, and both horses lurched forwards, their riders aiming their lances, settling them within the grooves of their armour to steady themselves. The mighty clash they made as both lances shattered upon impact was almost deafening, both riders bringing their mounts to a halt at the end of the arena.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was as Nero's horse pranced slightly in place that the young man suddenly tipped to the side, falling to the ground with a great clang of armour; sending his horse skittering sideways. His squire was already turning him over, face pale and streaked with tears, hands tugging at the pieces of armour to loosen them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You see my son,” Lord Fortuna spoke lowly, voice menacing and cold. “Even the greatest knight can be replaced if he forgets his place, just as another heir can be produced if you are unwilling to accept your responsibilities.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You....you did this?” V whispered. “But why? What could Sir Nero have done to fall out of favour with you?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“He forgot his place and station. Had it stayed as merely a roving eye he might have been forgiven; but you my son encouraged and abetted him. You laid with him in sin and shame. And for that, someone needed to pay. It was more convenient to deal with the knight, rather than go to the trouble of birthing another heir and training them. Other than this folly of yours, you have been the perfect heir up to this point.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V stared at his father in disbelief, sure that they had been careful enough to hide their trysts, and unbelieving of what the older man was saying. Speechless, he turned from the other man, standing tall and walking towards the arena, desperate to see if Nero still lived; the crowds murmuring in confusion.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“If you take one more step Vitale, you will be disowned and I will find another to name as heir.” His father seemed to think that warning would stop V from leaving, that the threat meant anything at all to him now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Then find another heir,” V spat, hurrying towards his lover.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V collapsed on his knees beside Nero's form, the squire stuttering out apologies for going along with the sabotage. V wanted to be angry with the boy, but he knew that he likely hadn't had much choice in the matter, and instead he just shook his head, cradling Nero in his arms.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero gasped for breath despite the pain, a large splinter of lance embedded in his side, piercing through his lung, causing blood to bubble up his throat. He choked on the crimson liquid as he tried to speak to V, his eyes begging for something, perhaps forgiveness, but there was nothing to forgive so V simply pressed their foreheads together tightly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“ 'M soorry..V......” Nero slurred, more blood escaping his lips.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Don't speak Nero, save your strength. You'll need it for later tonight after all, when we celebrate your victory.” V spoke with a hitch in his voice. Both knew that Nero would not be celebrating that night, nor any other night after either. They both knew that Nero would not be leaving this arena alive. “I'm sorry that my father did this to you, he should have punished me and not you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You.... are worth...... <em>everything</em> V......and I don't.......regret a moment of our.......time together.” Each word was slow and pained, but Nero forced himself to speak, needing V to know he would not change a thing about their time together.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I didn't get to call you mine for long, but just know that even when you leave this world, I will still be yours no matter what.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Ignoring the blood staining Nero's lips, V leant down to kiss him; the shocked and disgusted gasps from the onlookers meaning nothing to either man. It was their love that had drawn them together and it was hate and jealousy that had torn them apart. The feelings of others mattered not to them anymore, only what they felt for each other.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Tears streaked down V's cheeks as Nero's body fell still, his laboured breaths falling silent, the tension in his limbs disappearing. He curled around his lover, wailing, clawing at the armour still upon his body that prevented him from getting closer. The heavy steps of armoured knights filled the air then, and although they were distraught at the loss of one of their own, they had their orders from their Lord and they would follow them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V was pulled from the ground, arms restrained and marched from the arena. He was led out to the stocks and strapped into the wooden contraption, eyes dull and lifeless, only the sheen of tears that still fell giving the illusion of life. He was left there all night on his own, body shivering and cold, stomach aching with hunger, even as the thought of food made him cringe.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">When morning dawned and the knights returned to the square, hopeful that their Lord's son had learnt his lesson and they would be able to free him and return him home, there was naught by an empty body hanging in the stocks. Sometime in the night, V had passed on, his body finally catching up to his spirit, leaving the knights desolate.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They had failed.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They had failed both their brother and their young master and tears filled their eyes. With gentle hands they lifted V from the stocks, taking his body and laying it beside Nero's still form that awaited to be buried. They would tell the Lord that V had escaped, run away in the night and not looked back. But they would know the truth, and they would make sure to bury the two lovers side by side; knowing that if the Lord knew, he would burn Nero's body and take V to the family crypt, not even allowing them to be together in death.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was not much, but this was all they were able to do for the young men. They only hoped that one day, they would be forgiven for not doing more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. I Don't Feel So Well</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Chronic Pain* | Hyperthermia | Infection</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">V knew, before he even opened his eyes, that today was going to be a bad day.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Already he could feel the sharp ache in his bones, his joints feeling like they were swollen and hot; head pounding out a rhythm that would have made any tribal band proud, and a desperate tiredness seeping through himself, even though the day had not even begun yet.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The quiet rustle of the sheets from beside him alerted V to Nero's presence, a gentle hand reaching out and touching his forehead carefully. Letting out a pained moan, V leant into the touch slightly, Nero's cool skin feeling wonderful against his overheated body.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Bad day?” Nero all but whispered, and V was thankful for the low volume. His head might just have exploded if Nero had spoken any louder.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hmm..” Not really an answer, but it seemed to be all the confirmation that Nero needed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V hated days like these; days when just the thought of getting out of bed and going to work made him want to cry. Days when his body hurt so much, that even the strongest of his pain medication was only enough to blunt the sharp edges, but never enough to take away all of his suffering.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">On a normal day V's joints were a little stiff in the mornings, nothing that a few minutes of painful rubbing and a hot shower couldn't help ease slightly. His hip would ache from the long night of rest, and V would spend ten minutes stretching out the joint and rubbing in a muscle relaxant. Tiredness was something that he had gotten used to unfortunately quickly, his pain making sure that a peaceful night of unbroken sleep was almost unheard of.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">On bad nights his hip would throb constantly and neither the heat of a shower or the medicated baths would help ease it; no stretch or medication would diminish his pain, and he would spend the next day in a daze of pain and exhaustion.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero was a godsend on these days though. They had only been together for around six months before Nero had witnessed one of V's bad days – V having been able to hide the worst of it from him before. After watching helplessly as V suffered and not knowing what he could do to help, he had sat V down and asked him what he should do. And when he was still worried about helping V through his pain, he had called up his father who was a surgeon and asked him for help also.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Although Vergil did not specialise in pain management, he had put Nero in touch with a few of his colleges so that he could speak with them; telling Nero that he was proud of him. Nero had glowed at the praise, something that had been hard to come by as a young child and teen.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V had been surprised the next time he had been suffering a worse than normal day, Nero staying by his side and helping him through the worst of it as best he could. First he had made V take all of his strongest medications, checking to see if his temperature was also elevated as it tended to do when he was in pain. After making sure V drank an entire glass of water to help with dehydration, Nero then carefully helped V to stretch out his leg, digging his fingers into the sore muscles and massaging out the worst of the knots.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Deep heat was then applied to the area, and a wheat bag placed upon the joint, the warmth seeping in and helping to ease some of the stiffness remaining. He had then left V to rest some more, making sure the curtains were pulled tightly across the windows, knowing now that the light would make the pounding headache V had worse. During the course of the day, Nero had bring small meals for V to nibble on, again making sure he kept hydrated, no matter how much V protested the treatment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">If V needed to rise from the bed, either to use the toilet, or simply because he was becoming restless and wanted to be in the lounge, Nero stubbornly helped him to his destination, hovering anxiously until V had smiled tiredly and good naturedly shoo him away.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V could still remember the first time Nero had called in to his work for him, his voice raised angrily at the person on the other end who clearly hadn't been as sympathetic as Nero felt they should have been. V had had to apologise to his co-worker when he had returned a few days later, but even that fact didn't dim the glow V had felt at Nero defending him as he had.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It was nearly evening when Nero woke him up again, a plate of fruit and crackers in one hand, and a cup of herbal tea in his other. Beneath his arms, Nero carried his meds and yet another bottle of water for him. V rolled his eyes fondly, but accepted both the medication and water as Nero settled the food and tea upon the beside table.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Returning to the bed, Nero carefully helped V to sit up, propping all of the pillows behind his back to help support him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“How are you feeling now?” Nero questioned, brushing a few stray strands of hair from V's face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Better.” V croaked, voice husky from the lack of use.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“That's good to hear, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you walk to the bathroom on your own you know. Today was an especially bad day, and I don't want to risk you relapsing.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No buts V, I'm serious.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V stared up at Nero's stern face with a small pout, but he was immovable. Giving up with a sigh of defeat, V took the plate of food from Nero's hand, bringing a strawberry to his mouth.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V wouldn't admit it, but Nero's determination to keep him bed-bound was probably for the best, his limbs still feeling heavy and his hip throbbing dully. He would have to ask Nero if he could run a hot bath for him later, perhaps the hot water and medicated bath bombs might help ease a little of the ache.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It turned out that V didn't even have to ask Nero to run him the bath, the other disappearing briefly while he ate, returning once the plate and cup were empty and carrying him to the bathroom. V had stayed in the bath until it had started turning cold before Nero had scooped him back up and taken him back to the bedroom where he had massaged the last of the lingering stiffness from V's leg and tucking him under the covers as he finally grew drowsy now that his pain was finally subsiding.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Tugging weakly at Nero's sleeve, V snuggled into his side when he laid down beside him, head resting upon his chest, content to listen to the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Gentle fingers combed through his hair, carefully untangling the knots that had formed. Sighing in contentment, V couldn't help but wonder just what he had done to deserve someone as caring as Nero. Many times in the past, V's partners had not been able to withstand the pressures of dealing with a lover who suffered from chronic pain, but Nero was different. Nero who had searched and asked how to best care for him; Nero who looked after him when he could barely muster the energy to open his eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He didn't deserve him, but by the gods, V would not let him go without a fight.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Wrapping his arm tightly around Nero's waist, V pressed a kiss to his chest above his heart.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Thank you Nero, for always taking care of me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“There's no need to thank me V, I do it because I love you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I love you too Nero.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is more sweet than it is angsty....but eh what can you do?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Do These Tacos Taste Funny To You?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Poisoned | *Drugged* | Withdrawal</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">“I can't let you do this Nero! This is my problem and not yours, so stay out of it!” V wrenched his arm from Nero's hold, bloodshot eyes glaring hotly into concerned blue, the subtle trembling of his body almost almost hidden by the shivers wracking his barely clad form.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Please V, you don't need to keep doing this....you don't need to keep selling yourself like this. I can help you, so please just come home with me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No Nero I can't. I have customers expecting me, I have obligations to them and my employer wouldn't be very happy if I just blew them off.” V's lips tugged slightly at the double meaning, though it was wiped from his face quickly when Nero exploded.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Employer? You mean pimp don't you V? Whores have pimps don't they?” It was only half a second after those words had left his mouth before Nero paled dramatically, reaching out for the retreating V.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“V? I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, please forgive me.” Nero pleaded, catching hold of V's cold hand. “I was stupid and angry and I said things that I knew would hurt you because I want to you come and stay with me and let me protect you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I don't need your protection Nero,” V spoke coldly, glaring down at their joined hands until Nero reluctantly released his desperate grip. “I don't need anything at all from you. I think it would be best if you left now, and didn't come back again.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Wai...V!” Nero watched in despair as V turned away from him briskly, ignoring his call and leaning down towards the window of a car that had just pulled up. He watched in frustration as V spoke to the person inside the car before he opened the door and hopped in, the vehicle disappearing in a cloud of fumes not a moment later, leaving Nero standing on his own on the pavement.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Cursing angrily to himself, Nero turned away from the place V had disappeared to, vowing to come back the next day and try again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Got ourselves a pretty one this time didn't we?” The abrasive voice was accompanied by a rough touch to V's face, tilting his head this way and that to get a better look at him. “Gonna be a good night tonight boys!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“This isn't what we agreed on...” V protested before he was backhanded across the face, pain blooming hot upon his cheek.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Don't worry sweetheart, you'll get your money. We've just decided to....add on a few additional services. You don't mind do you?” V glared at the man who had picked him up, mouth open to say that yes, he did in fact mind and that he didn't do groups, but the dark gleam in his eye stilled the words in this throat. “Ah I see, you don't like the sound of that do you? No matter, soon you won't have a care in the world, and my friends and I can enjoy your body all we want.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The prick of a needle in his arm startled V, terror sweeping through him as he felt his mind almost immediately start to grow hazy and his body lax. Heat swept throughout him, his blood burning with need and V moaned slightly as a rough hand grabbed his hardness.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Let's get this party started then hmm?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The last coherent thought V had, before the cocktail drugs completely overtook his mind, was that he should have accepted Nero's help.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero drew his coat around his body closer, the chill biting wind seeping through his layers of clothing and making him shiver. He lightly stomped his feet in a desperate bid to bring circulation back to them, blowing lightly on his gloved hands impatiently. His eyes roved over the usual street that V could be found at, his agitation rising as he failed to spot the other man. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Nero checked the time, brow furrowing when he realised that V should have been there already. Perhaps Nero had already missed him, and V had left with a 'client' already. His lip curled in distaste at the word, but he had learnt his lesson yesterday.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Waiting for another ten minutes before finally giving in with a defeated sigh, Nero turned to go home, heart heavy in his chest. It was as he was passing a trash filled alleyway that the soft sound of a moan caught his attention, Nero almost ignoring the sound, not really wanting to witness some random getting it off. Hesitating briefly, the moan came again and that was when Nero realised that it wasn't a pleasured moan, but a sound of pain instead.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Deciding that even if he couldn't help V out today he could at least see if this person needed aid, Nero slowly drew closer to the sound.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hey, are you ok there buddy? Do you need help?” Nero kept his voice low, not wanting to startle whoever was there.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“N-Nero?” Nero felt his heart stop at that familiar, broken voice, caution thrown to the wind as he rushed forwards mindlessly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“V?” Eyes scanning the area, Nero finally managed to catch sight of a bare foot poking out from behind several garbage bags and he hurried forwards.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The sight that met him made his eyes water in frustrated anger and despair. V was sitting propped up against the grimy wall, naked as the day he was born, leaving every single bruise and scrape on display for Nero's widened eyes. Dried and crusted upon his skin, the evidence of the completion of numerous men painted his flesh, blood mixed in here and there to add to the mix. His eyes though, they were blown wide and dazed, unable to really focus upon any one thing at a time, pupils so dilated that Nero could barely see a hint of their usual green. With how high Nero was sure the other man appeared to be, he was surprised that he was able to recognise him at all.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hey, hey V what happened?” Nero's hand stretched out slowly, wincing at the flinch V unconsciously made when he touched his frozen skin.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Don't know.” V slurred, head lolling to the side. “ 'M so tired Nero...so tired. Just want to sleep.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No no, don't go to sleep here V, it's not safe.” While they had spoken, Nero had slipped his own coat from his shoulders, laying it over V's naked form. Watching as V's eyes slowly started to flutter closed, Nero made the quick decision to take him home with him. He would deal with V's later if he grew angry with Nero's interference, but he couldn't just leave him here.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Lifting V's body into his arms, Nero frowned at how light the other man was. He wasn't much shorter than Nero, and although he was built along leaner lines, there was no way he should be this light. Striding quickly from the pleasure district with his precious cargo in his arms, Nero took V back to his own home. His father was away on business at the moment, so there wouldn't be any issues with bringing the other man home with him, not that Nero particularly cared either way at the moment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Laying V down upon his bed, Nero hurried to gather together some clothes for the other, carefully manoeuvring his limbs through the holes. As he was pushing V's arm through the arms of the loose t-shirt, Nero felt icy coldness settle in the pit of his stomach when he caught sight of the fresh needle marks upon his arm.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Drugged. V had been drugged.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">So not only had he been beaten and left exposed in the alleyway like that, but they had drugged him also. At least those bastards had paid him at least, Nero thought viciously, having placed the small bundle of notes V had been clutching on the table beside the bed. But inside his heart wept. If only V had not refused his help; if only Nero had not angered him, had used the delicate touch he knew that he needed, but was too hotheaded to remember.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">All day, Nero sat beside V's slumbering form, watching over him like a silent sentinel; promising himself that he would move heaven and earth before he let something like this happen to V again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. What's A Whumpee Gotta Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Exhaustion* | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">The town was in shambles and those left alive were scrambling to put their lives back together again. The demons that had run rampant through their sleepy little town had destroyed the peaceful tranquillity and sense of safety that they had lived in for most of their lives, and everyone was more than a little wired.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil stood at the entrance of the town, shock and horror painted across his features, his latest kill from his hunting trip dropping from nerveless fingers as he raced towards where his house sat, the building placed in the area with the most damage. His feet skidded to a halt as his eyes widened in horror, his house utterly destroyed, not a single part of it untouched by the demons' taint. Blood dried upon the front steps, the trail leading away from the house, and Vergil could only pray that the survivor had not been hunted down like an animal by the demons and had instead managed to get away.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Cautiously stepping inside the ruin of his house, Vergil hesitantly sifted through the wreckage, terrified of what he might find hidden beneath the rubble. Relief filled him when the mangled bodies of neither his son Nero nor his betrothed V were found, his worry over their whereabouts increasing once more.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Vergil!” At the sound of his name being called, the hunter whirled quickly towards the approaching woman, taking in her frazzled appearance as she pulled to a halt before him, panting. “Your sons are both at the hospital and are alive..... wait!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil didn't wait to hear another word, not even stopping to correct her as he normally would, that V and Nero weren't married yet, with his half hidden smile tugging at his lips. With the knowledge of their location firmly in his mind, and the reassurance that both were still alive, Vergil felt the tension seep from his bones slightly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The hospital, when he arrived, was overrun by people everywhere. Some bore clear signs of having been attacked by the demons – claw marks and chunks torn out of their flesh – while others looked to have been damaged by the destruction of the buildings. The room was filled with the screams and wails of those injured, joining the mournful howls of those grieving for their lost ones, and Vergil could only be thankful that his boys didn't appear to be amongst those here.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Hurrying towards the harried receptionist, Vergil waited as patiently as he could for his turn, giving both names and shifting restlessly in place as she tiredly scanned her list. She had barely even managed to finish giving Vergil their location when he dashed off, ignoring her harried cries not to run.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Halting before the curtain separating his boys from the rest of the patients, Vergil drew in a few deep breaths to prepare himself for the worst, eventually drawing back the divider and stepping through. Nero laid upon the bed, his body covered almost from head to toe in bandages, drips and wires connected to his arms and chest, the incessant beeping of a monitor setting Vergil's teeth on edge. V sat beside Nero, covered in dust and soot, scratches and bruises upon his pale skin, clutching at his lover's hand in desperation. Vergil could see the tell tale tracks of tears upon his face, the salty trails washing away the dirt in their wake.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“V....” V's head shot up at the sound of Vergil's voice, more tears gathering in his despondent green eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ver-Vergil..I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, it's all my fault that Nero is here.” V sobbed, laying his head upon the bed beside Nero's limp arm. “He pushed me out of the way when the house started collapsing and ended up getting crushed instead.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It's not your fault V.” Vergil murmured, stepping forwards to gather V into his arms tightly. <em>'No, it's mine. I should have been here to protect you both.' </em>Vergil chastised himself.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil sat with his boys for hours, V eventually falling asleep resting against his arm; Nero still showing no signs of waking. Carefully manoeuvring V to rest upon the bed once more, Vergil rose from his seat, determined to go out and patrol the edges of the town to make sure the demons did not return. It didn't matter to him how tired he already was – how desperately his body was crying out for him to eat a meal that wasn't ration bars and get a good nights' sleep – he needed to make up for his failures. He would never forgive himself if something happened again, not while there was still strength left in his body to help protect everyone.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">With slow stumbling steps, Vergil stalked the outer perimeters of the town, Yamato clutched tightly in his fist, ready to be drawn at the slightest hint of danger. Back and forth he walked until the sun rose high in the sky, before he headed back to the hospital.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V was still sat in the chair beside Nero's bed, but by the looks of things he had managed to have a shower and find a change of clothes. A sandwich sat upon a small tray beside him, and Vergil watched with a frown as he picked uninterestedly at the meal.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Eat V, you will be unable to care for Nero if you don't keep up your strength.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's head shot up at Vergil's approach, but whatever he was going to say disappeared from his mind as he caught sight of the older man. Dark rings surrounded Vergil's eyes, and his normally pristine appearance was dishevelled. His normally smooth gait was shambling, and V was convinced that he was half a moment away from collapsing where he stood.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You look exhausted Vergil. Perhaps you should lie down and have something to eat yourself.” Vergil merely shook his head at V's suggestion, unwilling to be cared for, not when he still had so much to make up for.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, I'm fine. I just needed to come here to see if there was any changes in Nero's condition....?” He paused, before continuing at V's head shake. “But I really need to be getting back out there to help repair the town now. I shall come by later tonight before I go on patrol.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil was gone again before V could try to stop him, the younger man frowning down at his unconscious fiance. “Your father is a stubborn man my love, and I fear if you do not wake soon, he is going to run himself ragged.” He sighed tiredly, his muscles screaming in protest as he shifted closer to the bed, climbing up to lie beside Nero. “Please wake up soon Nero, we both need you Love.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Several hours later, V was awoken by the sounds of the curtain being pulled aside, two orderlies and a nurse hurrying inside, pushing a bed. About to protest another person being brought into their room, V caught sight of the person lying unconscious upon the bed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">So he hadn't even managed to last the rest of the day, V realised with a sigh, having known that this was going to happen sooner or later; Vergil's body having shut down when it's demands for rest and food were ignored. He supposed having all of them in the same room was convenient for him; it would make it easier to keep an eye on both of these self sacrificing idiots at one time. V really wasn't looking forward to the effort it was going to take to try to get these two to take it easy as they recovered, but if he didn't, no one else would and they would both end up back right where they started.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's lips tugged into a small, fond smile, shaking his head in exasperation. It was a good thing that they were both worth the effort though.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. You're Not Making Any Sense</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Forced Mutism* | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sort of based on some lore from the Dragon Age series, where the Qunari do not trust mages at all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">Nero had known that the Northern clans did not take very kindly to those with magic; he'd even heard rumours of what they did to anyone who had the misfortune to manifest the talent for the arcane arts. The stories had always been so horrible and barbaric though, that Nero had dismissed them as stories told to the youngsters to keep them in line, and to make sure they took their practising seriously. Something along the lines of 'If you were part of the Northern clans....' or 'If you don't behave we will send you to the North..' something like that. Not for one moment had he seriously believed that the stories were all true; every horrific tale.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The group of warriors before him were huge, not just in numbers, but in statue also. Most stood at least seven foot tall, the smallest appearing to still be well over six feet in height. And they were broad, their exposed chests rippled with tight, corded muscle, honed in the battles they had obviously fought, scars criss-crossing their flesh displayed proudly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Their leader was a huge man, standing head and shoulders taller than the Spardas before him, his greatsword gleaming deadly under the clouded afternoon sun. But as imposing as he was, and as deep and reverberating as he voice was – his voice so low Nero could swear he could feel it in his bones – he was not who had caught Nero's attention.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">No, the one that had captured Nero's horrified stare was the man hidden in the back behind the rest, his appearance alone enough to have normally gained Nero's attention. He was guarded by two men on either side, neither looking comfortable standing so close, another battle-scarred woman holding a leash – a leash! – attached the the collar he had encircling his throat. But that wasn't the worst of it, no the worst part of the man's appearance was the stark, black stitches that kept his mouth sealed closed. His dull eyes stared almost sightlessly forwards, and nothing Nero did could force him to make eye contact.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">A sharp call of his name had Nero turning towards his father, the other obviously done with the conversation he had been having with the Northern leader. The two groups broke apart to settle for the night, the Northerners retreating further up the coast to set up camp. Behind them trailed the smaller man, his slight frame standing out amongst the rest of the group, Nero's eyes trailing after him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As his group sat down to eat their evening meal, Nero wondered just how the smaller male was able to eat. His eyes scanned the space between their camps, finally falling upon the other male and his minder, his question answered as he saw a needle injected into his arm harshly, the glowing liquid being inserted into a thin arm.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Curiosity finally managing to get the better of him, Nero stood from beside their own camp fire and hesitantly wandered towards the Northerners. He paused beside the man and his guard, only the woman lifting her head to watch his approach and offering him a brief nod in acknowledgement. Cautiously asking if he could join them, Nero ignored the startled look he was sent, instead turning his attention towards the other male, once he had been given permission.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hello, my name is Nero.” He stuck out his hand in greeting, watching as pale green eyes slowly lifted from their lowered position, staring at the offered limb, before darting towards his minder. Nero kept his hand out for another minute before finally he lowered it back to his side, the other man now eyeing him warily. “Can I ask what your name is?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Oh, oh that was probably a very stupid question, Nero berated himself. Just how was the man with a stitched mouth supposed to answer him?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">His self flagellation came to an abrupt halt as the other used his hand to sketch out a symbol upon the ground, Nero having to turn his head slightly to be able to read it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“V? Your name is V?” He questioned, frowning when the other man shook his head, instead holding up his hand, all five fingers extended.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“He has no name young Sparda. He is merely known as Five, as he is the fifth mage to be used within our clan.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero jerked with a muffled shout of alarm as the woman beside him spoke, having almost forgotten that she was there. “Oh....oh I see.” Nero didn't see, he didn't understand how someone could be given not a name, but a number, and decided privately to think of the other as simply V instead. He also didn't see why the other had his mouth sealed closed like he did, and decided that he would risk asking. “Why is his mouth stitched closed, er if you don't mind me asking?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Never be afraid to ask young one, for information can be valuable.” A harsh stare was sent towards V, the man himself letting his gaze fall towards the ground once more. “His mouth was sealed because he needed to be punished for using his magic without permission. It puts our clan, indeed everyone, in great danger should a mage decide to use their magic upon their own will, and such a transgression is harshly dealt with. If he is to be found to have broken the rules again, he will have his tongue cut from his mouth to keep him from influencing others to follow his unholy path.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero's insides twisted in disgust at the explanation, wondering just what spell V had cast to have him punished so. And the very thought of cutting out his tongue if he were to use magic on his own...! Nero couldn't even imagine just how heartless you had to be to even consider that a just punishment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The Sparda clan had one other mage in their midst, and Vergil himself could use magic to a certain degree even if he tended to prefer using bladed weapons rather than a staff; and Nero could not imagine either his father nor Trish being collared and controlled like the Northern mages were. Where they did not even have the decency to name them, simply number them instead.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero could feel his ire start to rise, only to fizzle out when the guard spoke once more to him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You should retire back to your own camp now youngling. The night is growing long and there is much to do tomorrow. So we will bid you goodnight.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero knew a dismissal when he heard one, standing from beside the small fire and retreating back towards his own camp. Tilting his head slightly, he saw that the guardswoman had rolled herself up in a blanket, whereas V was left uncovered and exposed. The fire in his chest burned hotter at the sight.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil watched as Nero slowly made his way back towards them, the look on his face showing every emotion that roiled beneath his skin, a sad look crossing his face when his gaze flickered towards the poor young mage collared amongst the warriors from the North.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Unlike Nero, Vergil had known that the stories were true, had seen the proof before, though admittedly not to this extent. Before he had seen their mages strapped into heavy pauldrons with chains attached, their faces covered by heavy metal masks. This was the first time he had witnessed someone's mouth being stitched closed though, the swelling and tight pull of the threads showing that it had been done recently.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He couldn't help but feel bad for the young man, wondering if he had willingly joined the Northern clan, or if he had been forcefully recruited. In the end though, there really wasn't much Vergil could do for him short of kidnapping him, and that would cost more that a few lives with no guarantee that the boy would wish to join them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">No, there was nothing to be done beside finish up this mission together and part ways once more.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Dad.....” Nero's voice broke Vergil's reverie, drawing his attention back towards his clearly upset son.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I know Nero, but there is nothing we can do.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero opened his mouth to protest, clearly unhappy with his response. “But....”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nero,” Nero's mouth snapped closed. “He is not part of our clan. There is nothing to be done.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero turned away from him then, angry tears burning his eyes as he stormed away from his father. Vergil watched him go, heart heavy in his chest but unable to change facts. Dante sidled up beside him then, laying a comforting hand upon his shoulder, squeezing firmly in reassurance.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“We'll keep an eye on them both tomorrow, see if we can't strike a deal with the Northerners for the kid.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It would mean less money though,” Vergil protested reluctantly, mind racing with the possibilities.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So we'll buy less shit we don't need, or take on a few extra jobs.” Shrugged Dante almost carelessly. Vergil could see the look in his eye though, the one that was imagining Trish or Vergil chained and gagged like that. From the way his hands tightened into fists, Vergil could tell how affected his brother was at the thought.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Let's see how tomorrow plays out then shall we?” Vergil asked wryly, plans already forming in his mind.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Far across the way, sitting stiffly beside the tiny camp fire, V huddled into himself. That strange Sparda boy had looked so sadly upon his face, eyes tracing along the sealed seams of his lips as though he could not understand the need for punishment. V ran his tongue along the inside of his lips, feeling the tug and pull against his skin and wincing at the pain.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">That boy, Nero, had wished to speak with him and for the first time in his life, V wished to open his mouth and let out his voice. As though to speak were not a danger to everyone around him, as though he could not speak fire or lighting to life with his voice. No abominations like himself were not worthy to speak, not unless it was in aide of their clan, and even then only when bid to do so.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">No matter how much V wished to speak with that other boy, he knew that for the good of the clan, for the good of those not tainted by magic, he should not let his voice break free stitches or no.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V turned away from the other camp and huddled into himself sadly. He knew his place, and it was foolish to wish for anything else. His place was here, collared and silenced, where he could not corrupt nor taint others with his curse – at least that is what he kept telling himself anyway.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">A single tear dripped from V's eye, quickly brushed away before anyone could see. He just wished he too believed his own lies.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. I Think I'll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Disorientation* | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Slight Continuation of 'You're Not Making Any Sense'</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">BOOM!</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero felt his feet leave the ground as he was sent flying by an explosion; we bandits that they had been hired to deal with, obviously a lot better equipped than they had been led to believe. He attempted to work out which way was up, but before he had managed to work that out, his head slammed into the rock cliff face to his right. Sliding down slowly, Nero dazedly joked to himself that at least gravity was telling him which way was down now. His amusement came to an abrupt halt though, as he slammed painfully into the ground, his body folding over itself, and his head once more becoming acquainted with a hard surface.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">More explosions filled the area that they had thought to coral the bandits into and it was only now that they all seemed to realise that it had been a trap laid for them. They had thought that they were the ones laying the trap, but it seems that they either had a traitor in their midst, or they weren't as clever as they had liked to think they were.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero could vaguely hear the roars of the Northerner clan's warriors, the giants of men and women throwing themselves into the battle with not a single thought to their own safety. The screams of the bandits started filling the air, though Nero wasn't sure if it was from terror or anger.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Shaking his head to try to clear the double vision he was currently experiencing, Nero wobbled as he stood, tilting alarmingly to one side, warmth spilling down the side of his face. It was only the unexpectedly firm grip upon his arm that kept Nero from falling to the ground again, his disorientation increasing at the sight of the dark haired mage standing beside him without his normal guard. His clothing was torn and dishevelled, dirt and blood was smeared across his face; he panted harshly for breath through his nose, unable to open his mouth which was still stitched closed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“V?” His voice wavering, along with his body, unsure if he was imagining the other man before him or if he were really there. He looked down at the hand gripping his arm, reaching out to poke it just in case it turned out to by his own hand upon his arm.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">A questioning grunt met Nero's touch, and with slightly clearer eyes, Nero turned with more assurance towards what he was almost certain was V standing beside him. About to open his mouth, maybe to ask what was happening, or perhaps where V's guard was, Nero wasn't sure; but he was interrupted by the whistling sound of an incoming spell. Throwing both of their bodies to the ground, Nero made sure to lay atop the other man, trying to protect him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He let out a muffled moan of pain as he felt the scorching burn of fire pass over his back, his clothing catching a light and searing his skin. In too much shock to think straight, Nero soon found himself pushed and rolled along the ground, extinguishing the flames upon his back. A scream soon followed in the wake of the spell bomb, letting both men know that the threat had been dealt with.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero rolled onto his stomach with a groan, hissing as the damaged skin upon his back pulled tight. Although the fire had been extinguished, Nero still felt like his back was on fire, growling out a pained sound when a cool hand carefully touched his ruined skin. A soft, soothing hum met Nero's ears, apologetic green eyes meeting his own. Nero hazily wondered why.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Can you heal it?” Nero rasped, voice strained with pain. V shook his head sadly, hand rising to touch the stitches sealing his mouth closed. “Oh....” Nero had briefly forgotten about that, unused to mages being so restricted.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The sound of approaching footsteps broke their stare, V crouching to hover over Nero protectively. From above them three bandits appeared, armed with swords and a bow, all aimed towards the fallen warrior and collared mage.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well boys, looks like we have a couple easy targets here. We won't even have to break a sweat to deal with these two, they look halfway dead already.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero felt a tug at his belt, shooting a confused look downwards, the feeling not disappearing at all as he watched V tug a knife from his belt. He listened as the bandits drew closer, catching sight of the flash of steel in V's hand and mockingly wailing in fear.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Haha, looks like this one is going to put up a fight then. He must really like the crispy one to try taking us on like this.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The three shared loud laughter, tears gathering in the corner of their eyes as they mocked V. Nero watched as V's spine straightened, and he lifted the knife to face level, staring the bandits down with hard eyes. Their laughter drew to an abrupt halt as V drew the blade across his mouth, breaking open the stitching, mouth falling open with a gasp. Holding out his hand beside him, V summoned his staff, the stone atop lighting up as he cast spell after spell at the bandits; not stopping until they were all dead.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Turning back to Nero, who was still lying dumbfounded upon the ground behind him, V stretched out his hand and cast a strong healing spell over the other man, fixing both the burns upon his back and the disorientation he still felt from his head wound.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Thanks V, pretty sure that would have ended really badly if you hadn't taken care of them.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V reached up to touch the torn stitching still threaded through his bloodied lips, a look of distress painted across his face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You are welcome Nero,” Nero's breath hitched at the sound of V's whispered words, his voice sending shivers down his spine. He'd heard him casting his spells earlier, but hadn't really stopped to listen to the sound of his voice. “I...I should go back to my clan and turn myself in for punishment....”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What? No!” Incredulous, Nero grabbed V's arm as the other man turned to do just that, his eyes wide and terrified. “They'll cut your tongue out if you do that!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V merely nodded at Nero's words, his resigned air showing that he was willing to accept his punishment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Please just come with me to see Dad instead? He'll think of something to say to them so that you don't get punished ok?” V stared into Nero's pleading eyes, knowing that there would be nothing to be said or done that could change the clan's mind, but also not wanting to disappoint the other man. With a small nod, he followed behind Nero, picking nervously at the stitches; tugging the threads from his flesh.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Halt! Mage, on your knees, hands on the ground!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">They were almost at the Sparda camp when the shout stopped them in their tracks, the leader of the Northern clan calling out in a booming voice. Beside him, V dropped to the ground, Nero letting out a startled yelp at the abrupt movement.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's head was yanked back by the leader, a scowl painting itself across his face when he saw his unsealed mouth, eyes scanning the area for his handler. Not seeing the woman, he snarled low and dangerous, tightening his hold. Nero couldn't help but notice that despite the wince that crossed V's face, the other man did not struggle within the hold.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! You have defied our laws and tempted fate for the last time! We will not allow you to continue this way, to corrupt and defile our clan. On the morrow, we shall carry out your punishment and all shall witness what it means to defy our word.” He turned away from V in disgust, throwing the slighter male aside. “No come.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's head shot up at that single defiant word, already hurrying to scramble to his feet and follow his clan leader. The leader himself turned towards Nero with brow raised, a sneer or derision upon his face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You think you have a say in what happens within my clan boy?” He stepped closer, fisting the material of Nero's shirt and lifting him from the ground. “You think you can order me to follow your will? I was bred to lead, to take control of those too weak to do so themselves. You, you are nothing compared to me; not even a leader of your clan.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The sudden jolt of lightning that flowed through the large man made his body seize, releasing his hold upon Nero, his eyes rolling to take in the sight of V with his staff lit, casting the spell at him; eyes wide with both terror and resolve.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You....” His knees gave out as the lightning continued to flow, until his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I...I....I...” V stuttered out, body shaking now that the threat had passed. His huge green eyes met Nero's own, and he stumbled forwards. Nero caught him quickly, urging him to follow to the Sparda camp. He explained the situation to his father, and without further discussion, the clan hurriedly packed up their camp and fled.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Payment had luckily already changed hands, so they were not going to lose out on this move, but even if they had, no one would have complained about it. V clung to Nero's back, seated as he was behind the warrior upon his horse, wondering if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. He knew that with this move, the Spardas had just made an enemy out of the Northern clan, and they did not forget their grudges.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Trish rode up beside the pair, her quiet voice enquiring about what branch of magic V used, surprising the other when he realised that she too was a mage. Vergil admitted to having a touch of magic also, and V couldn't help but feel confused. Is this how the Southerners treated their mages? Where were their collars? The masks and punishments? Their minders to keep them from abusing their craft?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It's ok V” Nero murmured quietly, feeling how the slighter male was tensing up. “There is a lot we need to teach you about how you should have been treated and how your life is going to get a whole lot better from now on. I promise you, everything will be fine.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V merely nodded stiffly, not quite believing Nero's words, but wanting to. The coming days would tell if Nero was indeed telling him the truth, or if it was yet more lies.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. If You Thought The Head Trauma Was Bad...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Migraine | Concussion | *Blindness*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">V sighed in frustration as the warm embrace of sleep fled from his grasp, the sudden cries and stomping of feet upon the deck above him thrusting him forcefully back into wakefulness. He scrubbed tiredly at his eyes, blinking them a few times to try to relieve the dryness that they felt, before rolling over, the clang of chains accompanying his movement.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Why? Why couldn't they just let him sleep? Why must they shout and stomp so, when it was most assuredly deep into the night?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The muted boom of a canon firing answered V's annoyed thoughts, and sent him tumbling from his cot, feeling blindly with his hands to pull himself back upright carefully. He stumbled again as the ship tilted heavily to one side, the impact of the direct hit nearly sending it over. V cursed as he was thrown towards the door of his cell, his chains abruptly pulling tight and yanking him backwards and onto his back, his head colliding painfully with the ground; bright flashes of light playing before his eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">On his hands and knees, V slowly made his way towards the bed, wedging himself between the wall and the furniture, thankful that it was bolted to the floor. He braced himself as more canons tore through their ship, the sounds of swords clashing joining the shouting.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V felt a brief flicker of fear as he smelt the first tendrils of smoke, though thankfully those attacking them seemed less inclined to sink them rather than add them to their own fleet. V wasn't sure just how long he huddled alone in that dark corner, the sounds from above slowly fading away, until only the calls of an unfamiliar voice shouted out commands, most likely to his comrades. It would seem that they had lost then, V surmised, a feeling of unease starting to spread throughout his mind.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">What would they do with a useless slave like himself? Would they sell him again, or maybe they would do as his current captors had threatened, and take their pleasure in his flesh?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V could feel his heart start to pound wildly in his chest as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, doors opening and closing all along the hall. He could hear strange voices call out to one another about what they had found, laughing and joking with one another as they congratulated themselves on a great haul. V's breathing sped up as the footsteps stopped outside of the door to his cell, a confused voice enquiring about why it was locked.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Perhaps there is something of value in there.” V shuddered as he heard the voice of the man who replied; his voice deep and smooth, full of power and sending shivers down his spine. Two sharp gunshots later and V winced as the door creaked open.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oi, why is it so dark in here then?” A disgruntled question and sharp command for a torch later, and V could feel the stares of the men who entered upon him. “A slave?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">There was a quiet hum of acknowledgement, the man with the commanding voice not bothering to answer with words. Instead he drew closer to the cell where V crouched still, watching as the captive lifted his head to stare at them defiantly. A gasp tore itself from the second man's mouth, as the light finally reached far enough into the cell to reveal V's face to them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“V.....V?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he heard that voice, once so familiar to him, but long unheard and nearly forgotten, the passage of time long and cruel since the last time he had heard it. His eyes searched blindly, uselessly, for the other's location, bright bursts of light and shapes crossing his vision and trying to distract him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nero...Nero is that you?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero watched as those clouded green eyes searched frantically for him, the sightless orbs passing over him with each hurried turn. “Yeah V, it's me. It's Nero. Everything is going to be ok, I'm here with you now.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V scrambled out from his hiding place, stumbling as he forgot to count the steps between the bed and the bars of his cell. Nero cried out a warning just before V crashed into the rusted iron, stepping forwards to grip at V's shoulders and stop him from colliding with the metal. He shouted for his companion to get the damned door open, all the while holding V in his shaking hands.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He'd never thought that he would see the other man again, not after they had been torn from each other's side so cruelly at such a young age. It had been discovered that V's mother had lied about his parentage, his father banishing both mother and son from the town, threatening to kill them both if he were to ever lay eyes upon either of them again. Nero had been devastated when he had heard the gossip from the nosy old ladies that liked to gather at the corner just before his house; had ran until his lungs felt like they would burst, until he had reached V's old home. The teary eyed butler had told him that it was true, and that the young master and mistress had left earlier that day.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero didn't know what had happened to V after that, his own father having been unable to track their whereabouts, after Nero had spent hours begging for the older man to find his friend for him. It had been almost ten years since that time, and a lot had changed since then. Nero had become a pirate after his father had died, debts and the uncontrollable desire for adventure spurring him to join the first crew he came across. Thankfully for Nero he had managed to join a small, but generally morally sound group of pirates (well as morally sound as pirates could get anyway), and eventually he had taken over the leadership role when the captain had expressed his desire to retire.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">No matter how much he had questioned his choices in life up to this moment, Nero could not help but be thankful that they had led him to this moment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The door to the cell finally squeaked open and without another word Nero slipped into the cell, moving forwards hastily to cup V's cheek in his palm. His troubled blue eyes stared down into the face of the boy he had never forgotten, taking in the changes that marked the passage of time.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Gone was the adorable baby fat that had clung to V's cheeks, his face now narrowed with cheekbones that Nero could swear you could cut yourself upon. His lips were still the same, thin upper lip with pouted lower lip. His hair had grown out past his shoulders, waving gently, though looking limp and tangled at the moment. It was his eyes that were the biggest difference however, the once clear green orbs now clouded and sightless. There were two slashes across V's face over his eyes, obviously the reason for his lost sight, looking raw and bloodied still; crimson tears staining V's pale face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What happened V?” Nero asked, fingers ghosting over the slashes. V jerked his head back, turning away from Nero in shame and refusing to answer. “V?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nothing important Nero.” V finally murmured, knowing that he would not let it go.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But how could he tell his friend that he had done this to himself? How could he say that he had wanted to die after he had been captured, used, tortured? He had wanted to plunge the knife into his own heart, wanted to feel his life ebb from his veins in slow, steady pulses, even as he laughed at their helplessness to save him. But they had found him too soon, had wrestled with him for the blade until he had slashed out wildly, catching himself across the face instead of damaging his attackers. They had sold him to pirates then as a deck boy, and it wasn't until they had set out to sea that they realised that they had been swindled. V could no more scrub the deck and serve their food than he could see the hand raised to strike his face. They had locked him up in the cell after that, feeding him just enough to keep him alive – if only to stop the hold from smelling of his rotting corpse – perhaps hoping that they too could sell him on to another fool.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">How could V ever tell that pathetic story to Nero? Strong, wild Nero who had never let anything stop him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It....it doesn't matter V,” if Nero's voice had been any more uncertain, V would have thought he was asking a question instead of making a statement. He took a deep shuddering breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was a lot steadier. “No matter what happened, you always have a place by my side.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What use could you have for a blind, useless slave Nero?” V sneered, hope threatening to rise within him. “Are you looking for a pleasure slave for yourself then?”<br/><br/></p>
<p class="western">“You shame both me and yourself with such words V.” V tried to turn away at Nero's quiet words, shame filling him. “Your place at my side is the same as it always has been. As my best friend. Anything more we will decide together.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I'm sorry Nero....I just....it's....it's too much, I can't....” V broke off, tears leaking from his eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It's ok V, I get it. You're scared and that's ok.” Nero moved his hands from V's face, to take his hands within his own, leading him from the dark cell and out into the hall. V followed almost silently along behind him, the soft footsteps of Nero's other companion following closely behind them. V felt a stab of embarrassment that his moment of weakness had been seen by yet another person, and he was glad for the darkness of the hall.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero warned V when they reached the stairs, V stepping carefully up the creaking wooden steps. The scent of the ocean hit his nose as he reached the top, and he paused hesitantly before he walked out of the darkness. Nero gripped his hand reassuringly, and led V back into the light and out of the darkness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Ok, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Earthquake | *Extreme Weather* | Power Outtage</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tiny bit of FF crept into this one, but not in any canon sort of way of course :P</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">The winds howled outside the confines of the small, ramshackle hut that Vergil and Dante had taken shelter in, both men preparing themselves to battle against the flurries of snow that battered against the walls. They knew the cause of such extreme weather in what should have been the height of summer, knew that somewhere out there Nero stood in the eye of the storm, emotions raging out of control.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Guilt ate away at them both for not being able to do anything to prevent this from happening; Vergil returning from their hunt, shaking his head wearily at Nero's desperate look; Dante's eyes downcast as Nero turned to him with hope fading already from his gaze, even before he too shook his head.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero had torn from the house then, their shouts following after him, but doing nothing to make him pause – not even the slightest hitch to his step. They had lost sight of him not a minute later, Nero's speed too much for them to match. Half devils they might be, but that was nothing compared to the strength of the Fiery God Ifrit, who had chosen to reside within his chosen vessel.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil and Dante had turned back to the hut, steps slow and reluctant. They knew, <em>they knew</em>, the chances of finding V alive now, after all this time, was almost non-existent. V who had been taken from their house on the outskirts of town, who had been left at home in what they thought was safety, while they had gone out to hunt the demons that had been summoned to terrorise the towns. V whose blood they had found smeared around their home when they returned, the window to his and Nero's bedroom smashed in, glass littered across the ground tainted with the crimson of fresh blood.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">There had been a heavy heat to the air that night, Nero losing some of the tightly leashed control that he held over his affinity for fire, a few small fires springing to life around their home. Vergil and Dante had convinced Nero not to go tearing off on his own, gathering together supplies and heading out together that very same night. But the trail disappeared not even twenty feet from the house, the sour tang of teleportation magic heavy in the air. Nero had screamed himself hoarse calling out for V that night, tearing off into the woods in a desperate bid to try to find his mate, his other half; his Shiva.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V held within him the Icy Goddess Shiva, but unlike Nero, he had never been strong enough to call upon her powers. Ifrit had scorned his weak human vessel when they had first stumbled across them, but the strength and determination that V showed him soon changed his mind. V did not need to by physically strong to do amazing things, and Shiva was content to allow her vessel to do as he pleased, humming in delight as he proved their worth to their mate.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero and V had known the risks of simply existing; had known that vessels such as themselves were hunted and coveted. In their blood flowed the power of the Gods, doubly so for those bound to another. They had thought that they had hidden themselves, thought that they were safe. But they were wrong, and now V was gone, taken by those that wished to drain him of his blood. Whether they wished to use it in their foul rituals to summon more powerful demons, paint themselves in the vermilion liquid to draw another God to themselves, or simply drink it in hopes that the power would pass over to themselves, they would never know.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">In silence Vergil and Dante waited for Nero to return, their hearts breaking when the first screaming gale of wind slammed against the hut, heralding to all the outcome of Nero's search. Tears streaked down both of their faces, and with heavy hearts they wrapped themselves in their warmest clothing, pushing the door open despite the wind and snow, and running into the eye of the storm. They had a task now, one that only they could accomplish. To retrieve their boys.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero ran as fast as he could, pushing his body to it's limits and then crying out in desperation to Ifrit to lend him strength to push forwards <em>faster, further, towards their mate.</em> Power ran like molten lava through his veins, burning him from the inside out, but Nero merely gritted his teeth and pushed himself harder. V was out there somewhere, without Nero beside him to protect him from the evils of the world.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He followed the tug in his chest that pulled him towards the west, feet pounding upon the ground in a steady tattoo, the tug growing weaker and weaker as he ran. Fear blinded Nero to his surroundings as he raced onwards, tripping and stumbling over obstacles in his wake, bouncing off of walls that he failed to avoid; and still, he kept running onwards.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Minutes, hours, days later, Nero caught the faint cry of pain from V, red hot rage flowing through his veins; eyes turning slitted, golden and red iris glowing angrily. The sword he summoned to his hand ignited with red hot flames, the steel cutting through the summoners like they were so much chaff.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">A voice not his own roared in fury at the sight of his mate strapped down to the stone table, usual pale skin not a sickening chalk white; rivulets of blood painting V's flesh in stripes, that precious liquid falling to gather in the collection bowls below, where greedy hands dipped within, too impatient to wait until they had drained him dry.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">How dare they? HOW DARE THEY?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero gave himself over to Ifrit's anger, letting the God tear through the summoners that remained, ripping the demons they summoned to pieces with his bare hands. He was covered in the blood of his enemies by the time he came back to himself, the scattered remains of those that had taken his mate surrounding him. Nero ignored every one of those unworthy cretins, stepping forwards hastily, caring not what he crushed beneath his heel.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">His beloved lay still as death upon that stone table, not a single breath escaping his parched lips; the cold chill overtaking his body was that of death, and not Shiva's loving touch. Nero tore the restraints apart with his bare hands, tears gathering in his eyes as he stared down into V's face. If only he hadn't lost himself he might have been able to save V; might have at least been there by his side as he died, instead of leaving him to breathe his last alone.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero gathered V up in his arms carefully, as though too rough a movement might jolt his fragile body and hurt him. He cradled V in his hold, burying his face into V's blood dampened hair, his tears falling from his face and sliding down V's neck; the salty trails cutting through the bloodied lines upon his pale skin.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He could feel Shiva's despair at the loss of her chosen, could feel the icy winds start to gather around them, even as Ifrit raged to burn the world to ashes. Nero stumbled from the hideout, not even a batting his eyes as a huge flaming ball of destruction slammed into the cursed place; fire consuming everything in it's wake, but leaving Nero and his precious burden untouched. Revenge taken, thought not nearly enough (it could never be enough, because nothing he did would ever bring back his mate), Ifrit retreated into the depths of Nero's mind, mourning.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero made it to the top of a hill, the stars falling from the sky, as though they too were weeping for the parted lovers; and it was there that Nero fully gave in to his despair. His scream of anguish tore his throat to shreds, the howling of the wind picking up to echo him, Shiva sharing in his grief. Nero didn't feel as the winds grew stronger and stronger, the cold bite of bitter snow not touching either man, even as it whirled around them in a protective cocoon, hiding them from the world that had torn them apart.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero knew nothing as his burning skin turned icy cold, both man and God no longer having a reason to continue living, now that their mate was gone. Instead they let Shiva freeze their body to match the frozen heart that now rested heavily within their chest, let the world suffer for the pain they had wrought.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V had felt so cold in his hold before; before when the fire of Ifrit had burned brightly in Nero's veins; but now with the flames extinguished, Nero could only smile as V started to feel warm in his hold again. His legs shivering and shaking, unable to hold their combined weight anymore, Nero knelt upon the icy ground, adjusting his hold on V so that he could hold him closer. Eyes starting to feel heavy, his heart slowing rapidly, each dull thud coming further and further apart. Nero pressed his cool lips upon V's own, a murmured promise to find him again in their next life the last thing he knew, before with one last agonised scream, Shiva burst into millions of icy shards, surrounding her chosen and his mate, before disappearing.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Vergil and Dante battled against the wind and snow, knowing that they were growing closer as the howls of the wind started sounding more and more like the anguished cries of V's Goddess. They choked on their breaths as the cold winds stole the air from their lungs, but still they forced themselves onwards.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">They nearly stumbled and fell when the wind and snow stopped abruptly, the brilliant shine of starlight reflecting off of ice shards falling catching their eyes. Within the fallen fortress of ice, Vergil could make out the shape of Nero; knelt upon the ground, cradling his mate in his arms. Hesitantly approaching, they could see how Nero's face was pressed against V's, their eyes closed in eternal sleep, frozen forever in that last intimate embrace.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Stumbling back slightly, Vergil slowly withdrew from the scene, shaking his head at Dante when he opened his mouth to question him. They had come here to take their boys home with them, but he could not bring himself to move them from their position. Shiva had laid made them a place where they could rest eternally, undisturbed by man; and although Vergil was almost sure that Dante and himself would be allowed to pass through the protections, he knew that they were where they were meant to be.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The two older men retreated from the hill, tears sliding down their faces at the loss of their boys, staring up at the sky where the stars still fell towards the earth. Among those falling, two bright stars flew to join their brethren in the sky, settling side by side upon night's dark canvas.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Accidents | *Hunting Season* | Mugged</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">Hunting season was always the worst for those like V who were blessed – or cursed, depending on who you were to ask – with the blood of spirits running through their veins. Their bodies would force them to change at least twice a month, the pain that was felt if they ignored this was unimaginable, and this put them at risk of being hunted; no matter what time of day or night they let the change take them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Their little town was a superstitious place, and anything supernatural or anything that they felt defied the natural order of things, was dealt with severely – namely, it was killed and disposed of.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V and the others like him, were often asked by others of their kind that passed through, why the remained in such a hostile town. But it was hard to leave; many having families or loved ones (though none knew of their secret), while others just could not imagine starting their lives over again, living life on the move constantly. And so, no matter how dangerous it was, and how difficult it was to keep a secret, they remained.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V worried that one day his lover Nero would discover his secret; the other man being observant and cunning despite the way he acted sometimes; and wondered if that happened, would Nero would kill him just as heartlessly as he dealt with his brethren?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Perhaps it would have never become an issue if those blessed were not all predators, all with the killer instinct that demanded they hunt and kill and devour their prey. Maybe if they became prey animals they would have been accepted into the town with nary a twitch of the eyebrows, but never had a blessed manifested as something so unassuming as a deer.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The first howls of the night made V stiffen in his chair, Nero rising from his seat to gather together his weapons, determined to join the hunting group to eliminate the threat to the town. V watched Nero with sad eyes, hoping against hope that he would return without yet more blood on his hands, hoped also that he would not be harmed either.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nero....” V wasn't sure who was more surprised when he spoke just as Nero was about to step outside, himself or his lover. “Please......”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V didn't know what he was asking. Please return unharmed? Please don't kill them? Please forgive me for lying to you all of these years? In the end, his voice trailed off and whatever he wished to say remained unspoken.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Don't worry V, I'll be back later. Don't wait up for me ok?” Nero left with a smile on his face, the sound of the door clicked closed loud in the silent room.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V waited another ten minutes to see if Nero would return, before he too slipped from the house. Slinking along the shadows, V headed to his designated meeting place, the second lot of blessed having a different time and place to meet up. Arriving safely, V shucked his clothing and shifted, stretching out his body sinuously.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Another blessed trotted over to him in greeting, their long wolfish tongue licking at his sleek dark fur in welcome; V returning the gesture fondly. He played with the children as they waited for the rest of their group to arrive, giving chase to the young ones and rolling them over and licking at them when he caught them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The sounds of gunshots firing made them all flinch in fear, but the lack of pained yelps or howls reassured them that no one had been shot yet. When everyone had arrived, it was time to head out. Normally seeing such a different group of animal together would be strange – their own group containing cats, wolves, bears and even a few snakes and lizards – but to the blessed, no matter what form they took, they were family and that was all that mattered.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Deer and rabbits fell to their combined might, a few mice were snapped up by the children also, but mostly ignored by the larger adults, deeming them too small to be worth the effort. Blood coated their faces and snouts, eager tongues lapping at the carcasses to find more meat to satisfy the hunger, playfully snapping at one another if they came to close to the piece they had chosen.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The children wrestled eagerly for the scraps that had been tossed their way, those that had had their fill rolling around upon the ground, or laying idly on their bellies for the others to finish their meal.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was upon this scene that the hunters arrived, the sharp retort of gunfire startling the blessed and sending them scattering. Most fled into the surrounding woods, bullets chasing them, the pained yelps of targets hit sending their hearts racing – in fear for the blessed, in victory for the hunters.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The children raced to their parents' sides, fleeing alongside them; but one poor child had been left on his own. He had hurt himself earlier in their hunt, a hidden rabbit hole sending him tumbling and twisting his leg painfully. He had not been able or willing to return home, and so he had followed along slowly, a few of the older blessed remaining at his side. Now however, they had all run for their lives, leaving the child behind.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V turned his head when he heard the mournful howls, skidding to a halt and trying to return to him, only to be pushed and shoved forwards by his blessed mates. He growled lowly at those who pushed him onwards, digging in his claws to try to stop from being moved, and finally they parted ways and let him through, too scared to keep being held back by V's struggles.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V raced back to their feeding ground, slowing down to creep silently closer as he took note of the hunters filling the area. His heart bled as he saw others being dragged from the forest; the tell tale marks of bullets staining their hides, blood leaving trails of despair behind them. For even if they were able to break free and escape, they knew that the blood would simply lead the hunters to the rest of their group, dooming them all.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">BANG! BANG! BANG!</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">One after the other, V watched as his kin were slain, even as he crept closer to the pup left unguarded. He was almost there, almost able to reach out his paw to bring him close enough to pick up, when a hunter stepped into his view. Wide green eyes stared into the shocked eyes of the hunter, his gaze darting down to the gun held loosely in his hand that was rising up even as he stared.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Without another thought, V lunged forwards to grab the child in his mouth, only to shrink backwards as a shot rang out, missing his head by merely inches. The child cried out for him, and V tried to reassure him, but they both knew that it was hopeless and that if V remained, he too would die. Knowing this the boy growled out in desperation.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Go V! Leave me! Please, don't let them kill you too. Just GO!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V let out a pained yowl, spinning in place and racing away, tears spilling from his eyes. Before the trees hid him once more from view, V turned around watching as the hunter raised his gun and shot the youngling between the eyes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Knowing that they must return to their homes quickly now that they hunters had satisfied their own urge to kill, lest they invite suspicion, the blessed raced back to their homes, changing forms before slipping back inside; hearts beating out a tattoo of pain, fear and anger.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">V slipped back into the home he shared with Nero, fire racing through his veins, tears still staining his cheeks. He hadn't been able to protect that boy, or the other three blessed that had been shot and executed. He ran himself a bath, slipping beneath the water and letting it close over his head, hearing the dull thud of his heartbeat in his ears. Why did he deserve to live another day when those others of his group had not? Why? Why not him? Why them? WHY?!</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Firm hands grasped at his shoulders and hauled V from beneath the surface, his body gasping for air desperately. Concerned blue eyes met his teary gaze, and V found that he could not meet them for long, reddened eyes shifting away.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“V? What's wrong love?” Nero's concerned voice set V's nerves on edge, and he dug his fingers into his hands to keep from lashing out at him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It wasn't his fault, V repeated to himself. It wasn't Nero's fault...it wasn't, it wasn't, it wasn't.....</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nothing.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">If Nero was surprised at the short, clipped answer, his face showed nothing; instead choosing to pull V from the bath and wrap him in a fluffy towel. V stood almost like a doll as Nero dried and dressed him, all the while his anger mounting.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know what, it's not nothing.” V hissed, eyes narrowing into slits as he turned on his lover. “He was just a child Nero! A child!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wha..what?” Nero stepped back in shock, hands falling to his sides. How did V know about that?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“He hadn't done anything wrong and was defenceless. And you shot him! You killed a child? And for what? Because he was different? How could you?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I...V....How did you know that?” Nero's voice was bewildered, before realisation hit him and his voice turned hard. “Were you there? Are you one of them?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yessss.” V hissed out. “I was there. I was there as you took a young boy's life. I was there because I am 'one of them'.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You..you're one of them? One of the cursed?” Nero's hand reached towards his belt, almost as though he were reaching for his gun, thankfully left at the door to the house. V's eyes tracked each and every one of his movements, and the little remaining of his heart shattered.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I am one of the blessed. I loved you still Nero, even as each month you went out and killed my brethren. I thought you were a man of integrity and honour. But there is no honour in killing children. No honour in shooting your lover in their own home, especially when they are unarmed.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know damned well you could tear me apart without a single thought!” Nero shouted back.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“And yet, there you stand, unharmed.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero deflated as V's words registered, not knowing what to say or do. What could he do to fix this? Did he want to? Nero felt like he shouldn't, but that didn't meant that he didn't want to still. He loved V, and even if they were different, they could work through this together.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Nero broke out of his thoughts as V brushed past him headed to the door, a small bag hanging over his shoulder. The other man didn't once turn to look back at Nero, reaching out to open their front door.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wait! Where are you going?” Nero cried out, scrambling towards the door, skidding to a halt as V turned to him with blazing eyes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I am leaving Nero. I can't stay, not after seeing you like that. I used to make up excuses for what you did to the others to make myself feel better about loving you, but I can't anymore.” V turned around again and stepped out of their house, pausing to deliver his parting words. “You call us monsters; yet we have never killed an innocent child in cold blood. So tell me Nero, who are the real monsters here?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Nero standing alone with his thoughts.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was initially going to make Nero accidentally shoot V, but then I changed it to this and I sort of think this is almost sadder for me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. I Think I Need A Doctor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Intubation | *Emergency Room* | Reluctant Bedrest</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I haven't been proof reading these last few chapters, but I will go back soon hopefully to do so. But feel free to point out if I miss anything :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">V smiled tiredly at the cute barista that handed him his drink, flushing slightly as the other man winked at him flirtatiously, finger tapping the side of the cup where a string of numbers was clearly written upon the sleeve. Stumbling over his thanks, and feeling even more flustered as the man laughed lightly, V slunk out of the cafe and hurried down the road. Curiosity getting the best of him, V turned the cup to look at the numbers, seeing that the attractive male had also thoughtfully added his name as well.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Nero</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>04xx xxx xxx</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Call me?</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, even as he entered the hospital, a gruelling twelve hour shift awaiting him. Swallowing the last few mouthfuls of his latte, instead of throwing the cup in the bin like normal, V slipped it into his locker so that he could save the number in his phone later.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Changing into his green scrubs, V tried wrestling his hair into some semblance of neatness, finally giving it up as a lost cause and tying it in a messy bun, before he jammed a green surgical cap over the entire mess to hide it. Checking his watch, V sighed as he realised he had less than five minutes to make it down to his department. He shoved the rest of his belongings into his locker, telling himself to remember to clear out the dirty scrubs later that day, before making his way out.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The emergency department was in the usual chaotic mess of crying partners and bustling nurses, and it didn't take long before V was called in to deal with a patient who had somehow managed to nail their hand to a length of wood; their face paper white with shock, their partner nearly in as bad shape due to shock. V tugged on a pair of rubber gloves, speaking soothingly to the couple as he worked his magic. Once the nail was removed and safely disposed of, V handed the patient over to one of the nurses to be admitted, smiling reassuringly at the patient as he exited the room.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Standing behind one of the registration clerks, V pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger tiredly, praying that it would help to ease the headache that he could feel coming. It didn't help a single bit and V didn't have the chance to swallow some paracetamol before he was called to attend another patient.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Lunch time came and went, V once more missing out on his break as he was rushed off his feet; the exhausted man staring longing towards the break room before he walked with hurried steps towards the ambulance entrance. They had received word that a patient would be arriving shortly; a male aged in his twenties, had been attacked, the aftermath of a robbery gone wrong. From what V managed to understand, the male had witnessed a woman being hassled by some thugs outside of his place of work and had rushed to her aid. Scared at his arrival, one of the aggressors had pulled a knife on him, managing to catch him across the chest and stomach as he tore the woman's bag from her hands before taking off with his mates.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The sound of sirens approaching tore V from his thoughts, and he tugged impatiently at his gloves as he watched the ambulance pull into the entry. A green uniformed woman jumped from the back of the van, quickly unlatching the bed and sliding it from the back. The other paramedic handed V their notes, helping to push the stretcher into the emergency room.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It was only as they entered the room that V finally looked up from the notes, a shock jolting his body as he realised that he recognised the man lying upon the stretcher, covered in his own blood. He tore himself from his shocked state as they prepared to move him onto the hospital bed, V hurrying over to grab a hold of one corner of the sheet and lift. Patient successfully handed over, V thanked the paramedics as they headed out the door, then turned his attention towards Nero and starting with the usual checks – pupil dilation, pulse, heart rate.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Although groggy and a little disorientated (likely a side effect of the pain and pain medication he had been given) Nero didn't seem to be suffering any other side effects of the attack, seeming to be mostly aware and coherent, managing to answer all of the questions the nurses asked as V worked. Satisfied that nothing else was wrong, V turned towards the major injury and started cutting off the temporary bandages wrapped around his chest and stomach, quietly telling Nero what he was doing as he worked.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The skin beneath was stained heavily with blood, the two slashes raw and weeping still. V was pretty sure that Nero was going to need stitches – and a lot of them too – but he'd make that call after he had managed to clean everything up first. V took a the first cotton swab, soaked in saline and started clearing up the blood. The task was made difficult as the wounds keep bleeding, but eventually the bleeding slowed, and V was able to complete his task. He winced in sympathy as Nero hissed in pain as the wounds were cleaned, but it didn't stop him from completing his job; after all, Nero would be in a whole lot more pain if V didn't clean these up properly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nearly done, just a little more...” V murmured soothingly, dropping another soiled swab into the container.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Mmgrph....” Not the most intelligible answer, but V wouldn't hold that against him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Once the area was finally clean, V carefully spread an antibacterial ointment around the area, finally making the decision to suture the wounds closed. The nurse brought his supplies into the room and V withdrew a pair of black framed glasses from his pocket, slipping them on and pulling on a clean pair of gloves. Thanking the nurse as she handed him the general anaesthetic, V warned Nero before inserting the needle. Pressing around the area gently after a few minutes to check if it was numb, V started stitching.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero laid on his back with his arm thrown over his face, gritting his teeth as he felt the tug and pull at his skin. He might not have been able to feel the pain of the sutures being applied, but what he could feel, was uncomfortable.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V heaved a sigh of relief as he cut the last thread, arching his back to relieve some of the tension that had gathered there. He swapped his gloves one last time, before dabbing more ointment around the site. V smoothed down the edges of the tape holding down the gauze, reaching over to write on Nero's chart and arrange for the other man to be admitted to the hospital proper. He was almost done when the hesitant touch of a hand upon his arm nearly made him drop his chart, green eyes darting down to stare at the man on the bed beside him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nero? Are you feeling ok?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So, you're a doctor huh? What were the chances that I'd get to see you again today huh? Was hoping you'd call me, but I guess this works too.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V rolled his eyes fondly at Nero, sighing in exasperation. “There were better ways to see me Nero, you didn't have to get yourself sent to the emergency room to do so.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hmmm, maybe. But I couldn't just let those thugs hurt that woman. Getting injured was a minor miscalculation on my part, but getting to see you makes it worth it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“If you say so.” V responded, disbelief heavy in his voice. “I'll leave you to rest now, but if you're lucky, I may pop upstairs to visit you when I finish tonight.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero closed his mouth, about to protest the handsome doctor leaving him – regardless of the other work the other man might actually have to do, Nero didn't know nor did he care – happy with the possibility of V visiting him later on. He was about to try flirting just a little more before V managed to escape, but he choked back his words when he heard a frantic voice coming from the waiting room.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Where is my son? What has happened to him? He's not dead is he? TELL ME!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V turned towards Nero as he groaned, hands covering his face in mortification; not even flinching at the physical pain, his emotion agony much stronger at this moment. “Oh my God, Dad...no...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V laughed quietly, promising to send the other man into Nero's room, even though Nero begged him not to. “I'm sorry Nero, but for the sake of the other patients, I'm going to have to use you as a sacrifice.....”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Before Nero could even think of protesting further, V slipped behind the curtain and out of sight. Not a moment later, the hurried footsteps of Vergil approached, and Nero found himself staring into half crazed blue eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ha, ha...er hey Dad?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one turned out less angsty and more almost cute I think?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Now Where Did That Come From?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wound Reveal | *Ignoring An Injury* | Internal Organ Injury</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's almost dooooooooone! Wheeeeeee!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">It was nothing really; not when normal wounds were slashes that could carve you in twain, or gunshots that could pierce through your body, barely slowing at the impact. So this, this could be considered nothing more than a scratch really and V barely even acknowledged the brief sting before he forgot about it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He shouldn't have, but he didn't know that at the time.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It started with a faint nausea that just keep persisting, V frequently could be found with his hand clutched over his queasy stomach, desperately gulping water in hopes to ease the feeling. Nero noticed these first signs, but simply put it down to V not being used to the business of demon killing. It was after all not a clean job; there was routinely blood and other unmentionable things getting splattered across their bodies, not to mention the smell that they let off. So honestly, Nero didn't think much of it, not at first anyway.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The next thing that V noticed, was the thin green lines spider webbing out from the original site of the wound, that had long ago healed. So long ago, that it took V a moment to even remember that it had happened in the first place. He didn't like to admit it, his lip curling up in distaste if he started actively think about it, but there weren't really that many chances to bathe, and so the physical signs of his ailment went un-noted for what could have been a week or more. The smart thing to do then would have been to tell Nero, or even Nico for that matter, either person potentially having something that could help V to rid himself of the poison; but he didn't.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">What point was there in wasting a cure upon V, when he was already dealing with it? Surely it would run it's course and flush itself from his system without the use of curatives.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The chills started less than a week after V discovered the marks, his body wracked with shivers even as the sun beat relentlessly down upon them, sweat beading his brow. It was about this time that Nero started to get really worried, the feeling building up in him as he watched the other man struggle more as each day passed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V wasn't eating much, small nibbles here and there if Nero or Nico were to stare him down at meal times, more often opting to drink water only perhaps to help with the ongoing nausea. He had also noticed how V kept curling his hand, almost protectively, around his side; wincing when something pressed against it. And now he was sweating like he was standing beside a fire on a hot day, all the while shivering as though he had been tossed outside in the snow without a stitch on.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Something definitely wasn't right, and Nero was determined to get to the bottom of it. V however, was a stubborn bastard and any inquiries regarding his health were brushed off, or actively ignored. Nero grew frustrated at his constant avoidance, the feeling only growing as V started to avoid him, choosing to remain solitary instead.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Almost ready to give up – Nero couldn't take much more of this – he stumbled across V's unconscious body in the doorway of his bedroom, body sprawled ungracefully upon the carpet, a red mark blooming across his face where he had obviously hit it as he fell. Calling out for Kyrie and Nico, Nero hauled V up as carefully as he could, carrying him back into his room and placing him upon his bed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Along the way, V's shirt had ridden up, so when Nero pulled back, he managed to get his first look at the huge mark of poison green veins covering V's side. Even unconscious, V seemed to be overly aware of the marking, body trying to curl up to protect his exposed side. Nero had to hold him down firmly to prevent this, a soft whimper escaping V as he was stopped.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Twin gasps from the hall drew Nero's attention, the girls standing there, their eyes locked upon the same spot Nero's was. If only V had come to them sooner, then all of this could have been avoided; if only V hadn't ignored all of the signs and taken proper care of himself. But V was stupidly uncaring of his own welfare sometimes, and although it irritated the group to no end, they had mostly come to terms with it. Or that is what they had thought anyway. Seeing V like this now though, well.....they weren't so sure they wouldn't strip search him after every fight from now on to prevent this from occurring again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Kyrie disappeared briefly to gather a few towels and some cool water, Nico to scrounge through their medical supplies to locate something to neutralise some of the poison running thickly through V's veins. Nero meanwhile carefully tugged V's top over his head, murmuring soothingly to the distraught male beneath him. Nero sucked in a sharp breath at his first unimpeded view of the mark, eyes scanning over it to see where the entrance wound was located. Not able to find one (damn V for leaving it so long the entry point had healed over), Nero realised that they would have to slice the skin open so that they could drain most of the poison out.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Kyrie reappeared first, towels slung over her shoulder, a bowl of water carried carefully in her hands. She indicated that Nero should move the small pile off books laying on the bedside table, before she placed the bowl down, dipping the first of the towels in the water. She took her time wiping over the spider webbing, making sure to clean the area as gently as possible, before she took a new towel to dab at V's flushed skin.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nico skidded into the room carrying a vial of neutraliser in one hand, a packaged scalpel in the other; it seemed that she had made the logical guess as to what they would have to do even without seeing the site clearly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero rolled V onto his uninjured side so that they could lay a couple of old towels under him and watched as Kyrie pulled on some gloves and took out the scalpel. He watched as her hands shook so badly as she tried to made the first cut, her face twisted in a complicated mess of emotions. Reaching out slowly, Nero took the blade from her hand, placing it down upon it's packaging and drawing Kyrie into a tight hold.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It's ok Kyrie, you don't have to do it.” She shuddered in Nero's hold, tears dripping from her eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I can't do it, gods I can't do it. I don't want to hurt him more Nero, even though I know he needs me too.” Her words were difficult to understand, her distress plain to see.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero handed her over to Nico to hold, pulling on his own pair of gloves and taking a deep breath as he picked up the blade. He located where the centre of the webbing was, assuming that this was the entry point and pressing the blade into the skin. Bright green oozed from the fresh incision, not a single trace of red blood to be found yet. Nero cut further along V's side, wincing at the moan of pain that escaped the other man.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Once he had made a two inch long cut, Nero put down the scalpel and used his hands to push the veining towards the opening. The smell that filled the room as the poison was pushed out was noxious, each person's nose wrinkling in disgust at the thought that V had had this running through his body for gods knew how long. No wonder he had been feeling ill all the time.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero reached blindly for some gauze or a towel to dab away the poison he was squeezing out, startling slightly as it was placed into his hand. He looked up briefly and met Kyries slightly reddened eyes, a look of stern determination now painted across her face. He nodded at her in acknowledgement, taking the gauze and cleaning the incision, before moving to squeeze more out.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">This process went on for nearly twenty minutes, before the liquid spilling from the wound started turning red again. Giving the area one last check, Nero stopped what he was doing, leaning back only to fall on his rear, as tiredness and stress finally overtook him. Nico stepped forwards then, vial in hand, pouring the liquid over the open wound, dabbing more around the areas that had been marked to clear any remaining poison that they may have missed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Kyrie took over then, wiping down the rest of V's skin, dabbing antiseptic along the cut and pushing the edges together before tapping them down with butterfly stitches. She briefly considered tapping gauze over the wound, but decided against it, just in case it started to grow infected and V tried to hide it again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nico then rolled V slightly so that Kyrie could remove the soiled towels, both women avoiding Nero's dazed form; cleaning up the room quickly. Nico left to burn the disgusting mess of soiled towels and medical supplies, while Kyrie went to the kitchen to make something for them all to eat. She returned quickly, carrying a bowl of soup for V, along with something a little more substantial for Nero to eat. Kyrie pressed the food into Nero's hand, curling his slack fingers around the food and encouraging him to eat.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Looking towards V, she noticed that he seemed to finally be coming to, smiling at him reassuringly, even if it was edged slightly with exasperation. Nico slipped into the room later, carrying food for herself and Kyrie, and they all ended up having an impromptu picnic upon V's bed. They at least waited until V seemed to be more with it, his soup half finished, before they started to lecture him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Why didn't you tell us V? Don't you trust us?” V winced at Kyrie's sad tone, eyes dropping towards his lap as he fidgeted with his fingers.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I....”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You let it go so far!” Nico cut in. “The smell was knarly dude, really brought tears to your eyes! Seriously enough to knock a demon flat on it's ass...and you had that running through your veins?!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It...I mean I didn't....”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“V.” V snapped his mouth closed at Nero's disappointed tone, eyes shifting to take in the other man sitting beside him. “Why didn't you tell us?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I didn't think it was anything serious.” V mumbled.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And when you realised that it was? Why did you ignore then?” Nero pressed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It wasn't worth wasting supplies over.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I'm sorry what?” Nero's voice turned sharp. “Are you saying that you don't think you are worth the cost of a neutraliser to us? That we don't think of you as our friend and team mate, and that we wouldn't be devastated if you died because of some idiotic reason such as that?” V remained silent. “Well V, do you? ANSWER ME!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nero....” Kyrie tried to calm the irate male down, but he wasn't listening.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You're my best friend V, and I thought we were something more too. But after this, I don't even know what we are anymore. You obviously don't care about how I feel if you can do something like this.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V watched with a sinking heart as Nero vaulted from the bed, and stormed towards the door. He paused before exiting, appearing to be about to speak again, before he shook his head and left without another word. V's head dropped down again, small drips of moisture falling to land on the sheets covering his lap.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“He was really worried you know?” Kyrie's sweet voice, did nothing to soothe V; indeed her words only made his heart ache more.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“He hates me now.” V's fingers picked at a few stray threads despondently.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nah he's just pissed and scared and doesn't know what to do with himself.” Nico's brash drawl made V jerk in surprise. “Give him a day or so and he'll get over it. Then he'll come back and be disgustingly sweet to you to make up for it and everything will be back to normal again.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V sagged slightly in relief, not realising just how much he had needed that reassurance. His relief was short lived though, for Nico's next words made him freeze in place.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Now....about hiding your injury from us....”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">V gulped as he looked up into the two brightly smiling faces before him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Today's Special: Torture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Experiment | Whipped | *Left For Dead*</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And it's dooooooooooooone! Woooo made it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="western">Nero gripped his gun in clammy hands, his finger curling almost convulsively around the trigger as he strained his ears for the sound of undead in the area. Somewhere close in the area he could catch the sound of the howling of a Hunter, the give away coughing of a Smoker, and the rumbling sounds of a Boomer.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He might be able to survive an attack by a Boomer, if he was lucky, the undead sacrificing itself to explode and cover it's victims in the acidic stomach fluids held within it's body; but there was no hope for him if he ran into a Smoker or a Hunter. A Smoker would wrap it's tongue around his neck and strangle him, usually standing up high above ground level and pulling it's victim upwards towards itself, causing them to drop their weapon and leave them defenceless. A Hunter would pounce upon you from above, but they had been know to creep along behind a person and take them down from there also. Once they had you on your back, they would tear and claw at you until there was nothing left. In theory you could probably try shooting them, but the pounce normally forced your weapon to tumble from your grasp.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">They hadn't been too big of an issue once upon a time, their general dangerousness not withstanding, as Nero had been part of a three man squad desperately trying to survive another day; futilely hoping to find a safe haven. But two weeks ago, Nero had woken in their temporary safe house, alone and abandoned – left for dead. There were a few days worth of rations on the beaten up old table, a couple of guns and a small pile of ammo to hopefully tide him over, along with a single first aid kit.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He'd known why they had left him behind – an injury sustained when they had fought a crazed Witch leaving Nero with a limp that he just could not shake, slowing their movements substantially – but that didn't mean that it hurt any less. Nero knew that his chances of survival now were close to nil, and it was only a matter of time and chance to see just what undead managed to finally finish him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero crept around the corner of a building, clicking off his torchlight as a precaution, eyes darting everywhere to keep an eye out for danger. He was so busy looking ahead and to the side of himself, his heart thudding so loudly in his ears, that he didn't hear the Boomer approach. The sound of the rumbling just before the explosion finally caught Nero's attention, and he cursed and tried to throw himself as far as possible from the spray. He still managed to catch a chestful, the smell making him gag.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The sound of all the other undead heading in their direction caught his ear, and it was then that Nero remembered the other aspect to the acid spewed upon him. It had the nice added effect of attracting every undead in the area towards the scent. Nero was screwed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Stumbling away as fast as he could push himself, Nero managed to hole himself up in a room with a single entry point. He barred the door, knowing that it was only a matter of time before it was broken down, and shucked his smoking shirt to prevent his skin from melting. He reloaded all of his guns, shaking hands laying out the scant stock of ammo he had remaining, then aiming his gun towards the door as it shuddered beneath the force of the horde pushing against it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It didn't take long for the wood to finally shatter, the first undead sprawling on the ground as they were pushed forwards from behind. Nero ignored those unlucky few, the feet of the rest entering the room quickly trampling over them, the sound of gunfire filling the small room. The scent of gunpowder and rotted flesh stung his nose, but Nero could not stop unless he wished to die now.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">His next few shots went slightly astray, luckily still managing to lands hits – if not fatal ones – when the sound of several guns firing caught his attention from outside. There was a cocky, mocking voice calling out insults towards the undead, another rumbling grumpily as what sounded like rockets were launched, and another that sounded like they could be a Hunter will all the growling they were doing. And beneath it all, Nero could just catch the faint sound of a man's voice, calm and firm, directing his companions in the assault.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Finally the last of the undead fell, and Nero let his gun fall from his nerveless fingers, sweat pouring down his face. Four shadows soon blocked the doorway, Nero squinting hazily up at them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, well. What do we have here then?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Urgh, Nero had a feeling that the man with the cocky voice would get on his nerves really quickly if he every had to spend any significant amount of time with him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hush Griffon, don't be unkind.” The calm male voice spoke next, soft footsteps drawing closer. “Hello there friend, you seem to be in need of assistance. My name is V, and you are more than welcome to join our group if you have none of your own. If it is merely a case of you being separated, we are more than willing to help you reunite with them if that is your wish also.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“We are, are we?” Griffon murmured to the male on his left; Nero having to do a double take as he mistook the other for a Tank for a moment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Nero merely shook his head sadly. “I'm Nero and no, there is no group. They left me for dead when my injury slowed them down too much. I'll slow you down too, so it's best if you just head off without me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Going slow is not an issue for us,” V reassured Nero, gesturing towards his own leg. “I too have an injury, though unfortunately mine will never heal no matter how long I wait. So going slow is not an issue for us.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I....I.....” Nero felt overwhelmed, tongue heavy in his mouth, unable to form words.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He'd never thought to find help, never thought anyone would willingly take him in. But here was this man, offering just that, and being living proof that in injury wasn't enough to prevent them from surviving.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yes, yes I want to join you. Thank you for having me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Welcome aboard Nero.” V offered his hand, helping pull Nero to his feet. “We are glad to have you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Haha I was actually going to make this end up being them playing the game Left 4 Dead, but well, I made it real instead.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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